


Broken

by ihavenoidea241



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: ...leading to Hamburr, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anxiety Disorder, Based on Original Broadway Cast, Eating Disorders, Hamilton is a little shit, Hospitalization, M/M, Panic Attacks, Post-Reynolds Pamphlet, Rating May Change, Self-Destructive Behavior, Slow Build, Therapy, and Washington finally loses his calm, mentions of Eliza/Alexander
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-25
Updated: 2018-01-07
Packaged: 2018-07-18 04:04:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 40,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7298848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ihavenoidea241/pseuds/ihavenoidea241
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alexander Hamilton's life falls to pieces and after going full Alexander Hamilton, he ends up in a psychiatric ward. He's not happy about it. And he’s not happy about his doctor in particular.</p><p>Fic inspired by *that* House ep. We all know which ep I'm talking about, right. Right?!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lolymie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lolymie/gifts).



> Huge thanks to the best of cinnamon rolls and best of betas @lolymie, for fixing this... thing.  
> It's my very first fic, please be gentle with it! *puppy eyes*

He felt consciousness slowly kicking back, the outside world hitting his waking mind with a bunch of unfamiliar sounds coming from a distance and his face flushing from the characteristic heat of sun shining through a glass window - not hot enough to burn, but still warming his cheeks up. His lids seemed too heavy to lift, a sensation he had become too familiar with over the past few months.

This time, however, it felt different. It felt _wrong_ , he thought to himself. Not that being constantly sleep deprived had ever been right - he was aware that he was harming himself, drastically cutting down on fulfilling his body's most basic needs. But he couldn't bring himself to care, not anymore, not when all the people he loved and lived for despised him. Before his mind could jump deeper into the black hole of painful memories, he decided on opening his eyes - he was probably late for an important meeting anyways. Besides, he really wanted to check what it was that his subconscious was trying to warn him about.

That was a mistake.

The brightness of the room hit him like a camera flash, blinding and shocking, making his brain swirl and his stomach twist. He tried to look around, but he was too weak to lift his pulsating with pain head. He tried to speak, but his tongue refused to form sounds that could be considered _words_. That terrified him the most. His entire body started shaking with fear, the sudden helplessness being too overwhelming, too much to handle. In the middle of his panic attack, he felt a big hand on his palm, thumb covered with rough, almost cracked skin rubbing gentle, reassuring circles, careful not to touch what felt like an IV.

"It's okay Alex, you're in the hospital, just rest."

The voice was so familiar, but _no,_ he thought, it couldn't be him, why would he be there? The curiosity overtook his exhaustion and he put all the strength he had into opening his eyes once again. Washington's blurred, worried face was the last thing he saw before he blacked out.

\---

The second time Alexander woke up wasn't even nearly as bad as the first. His whole body seemed numb, but at least the headache and panic were no longer there. He felt drugged, which he’d normally hate, but the tiredness was still too acute for him to think properly. He managed to examine the room with a torpid stare. He must had been asleep for at least a few hours, because the sun was long gone. Washington was sitting in an armchair in the corner, focused on his phone. Once he felt Alex's eyes on him, he returned the look, a sad, small smile ghosting over his face. Alex dropped his head heavy on the pillow and drifted off once more.

\---

Third time's the charm, they say. Well, it seemed to be true in Alexander's case. He felt neither tired nor drugged, only slightly dizzy with the rays of morning sun shining directly in his eyes. He tried to lift his hand to his face to stop them, and ended up being painfully reminded of the IV.

"Careful!"

Washington was still there, but this time not alone. The sight of Martha, with her loving, concerned eyes fixed on him, caught him off guard. She had always been nice to him - that was her way of living, loving and caring about everyone. But he'd never expected her to be here.

Alex wondered if the Washingtons had spent the entire night by his side. It was possible, judging by the dark circles under their eyes. It hit his heart with a surprising force, the fact that his boss cared about him more than his own wife. Well, ex-wife. He knew he was being irrational, he knew how much he had hurt her and that he didn't deserve her presence at all, but he still couldn't control the tears that started slowly dripping down his cheeks, wetting the two-week-old beard that he had been too busy to shave. He squeezed his eyelids shut, just letting them flow for a minute. Before they could dry on his skin, leaving him with salty, burning traces, Martha was hovering over the bed, softly wiping them away with a tissue. She didn't give him enough time to break again, and comforted him in a tight, motherly hug. He realised that she probably had a lot of experience with this, having raised four children. She let go of him when he stopped shaking, brushed a strand of hair that had stuck to his sweaty forehead behind his ear and stood up, a short grimace of pain crossing her face when she tried to fully straighten her back. And Alex had thought that he couldn't feel any more disgusted with himself...

"George wants to talk with you alone, Alexander. Is that okay? Do you want it to wait?" Her voice was soft and calm, not forcing anything, and although he would have been very grateful to postpone this conversation into eternity, he was also painfully aware of its inevitability. Might as well just rip the bandage off - it wasn’t like things could get much worse than they already were, anyway.

"It's fine." His voice came out much hoarser  than he expected it to, but at least his tongue was cooperating with him again.

He felt a wave of fear wash over him as he watched Martha leave. He had no idea what was going to happen. Would Washington yell at him? Would he get fired, accused of unprofessionalism too big to get away with? His mind was finally back to its normal, blistering pace, running through the hundreds of possibilities in a fraction of a second, each one worse than the previous.

Washington picked up a chair that was standing next to the door and placed it on the side of the bed, close enough to be able to easily touch Alex. He didn't, though. He just sat there for what felt like hours, his face hidden between his big hands, elbows resting on knees. It wasn't easy to make Washington speechless and hesitant like that, and it made the panic rise in him once again. He assumed that either something completely terrible had happened or was just about to happen.

He, however, had most certainly not expected the utterly broken expression on Washington's face once his hands finally fell from it and revealed it. Now that he was so close, Alexander finally had a chance to notice the unfamiliar redness that framed the older man's irises - he had seen him after 48 hours without sleep, he had seen him after an entire day spent on fighting in the government and talking to the press afterwards, he had seen him ill and he had seen him angry. But he had never seen his eyes like this. He felt his chest tighten when he realized the only explanation fitting behind it was that Washington had been _crying_. When he finally brought himself to speak, his voice was like nothing Alex ever heard come out of his mouth, the calmness and confidence provided by years of political experience long gone. At that very moment, his voice was pure, raw emotion.

"Alexander, do you have any idea how close you were to never waking up again?"

"What do you mean?" His surprise was genuine. He had figured out that it had been something more than just inconsequential fainting - that had happened to him a few times before, and it did not feel like this at all. He hadn't had the chance to speak with a doctor yet, so he could only make assumptions about his state. But he didn’t notice any serious wounds, he wasn’t feeling _that_ horrible - he most certainly had been worse is his life on several occasions.

"What's the last thing you remember?"

It took Alex a while to try to recall the events of his evening in the office. Bringing any of these memories back was like trying to shift a huge rock from his mind, and when he finally succeeded, they felt as if they were covered in mist, like the memories of early childhood or a night filled with heavy drinking.

"Around 7, I got up from my desk to get a coffee," he said, uncertain if it was the truth or if his brain was playing tricks with him.

"That's when you had a syncope, Alex." Well, that made sense. He remembered having read somewhere that these things could happen after hastily standing up. But that would mean he just passed out for a moment, and that wasn’t a big deal at all. "A cardiac syncope. Your heart stopped, Alexander. If I hadn't stayed longer at work that day, if I hadn't gone to your office to tell you to go home..." Washington's voice became shaky, eyes absent, going through all the "if's". "Five more minutes and you'd be laying two floors downstairs." At that last sentence, his expression was almost betrayed, as if Alex had done something unforgivable.

"And what's there? Intensive care?" He couldn't understand why Washington was being _so dramatic_.

"The morgue, Alexander. You'd be dead on the slab."

Alex did not expect that. He was about to say something - he really felt like he owed Washington an apology for all the worry and trouble - but before he could open his mouth, the remainings of Washington's self control disappeared and he stood up, fury playing in his eyes, hands clenched in fists.

"Just because you don't care about your life doesn't mean you get the right to be a reckless idiot, Hamilton. I have no words to describe how incredibly immature you are, and cat very rarely gets my tongue. This is just a whole new level of stupidity and selfishness, congratulations!" Washington kept spitting words with an anger Alex had never thought he had in him, getting louder and louder with every sentence. "Yes, you fucked up and your wife left you. But that's how life is, Hamilton! All that I'm asking is for you to finally put that _brilliant_ brain of yours to use, because If you could, for one Goddamn minute, stop crying about your hurt ass and just consider the consequences of your behavior, maybe you wouldn't be in a hospital right now. And I'm not even going to ask you to think about me or Martha, because you clearly don't give a fuck about the fact that you're like a son to us, but for Christ's sake, had you, at least for a short moment, thought about your children? For a man that knows how it is like to not have a father, you're still so fucking careless about doing this to them!" He basically screamed the last phrase out and something in him broke; he just couldn't go on. Alex watched him wipe a single tear from his cheek and then almost jumped in his bed when Washington turned and punched a wall with such force Alex was sure he had broken at least two fingers. He winced from pain, squeezing his eyes shut.

That was when the door opened and Martha walked into the room. He wondered if it was the famous _women's intuition_ , or if she had just been eavesdropping. Regardless of the reason, he was incredibly thankful for her saving the situation.

"What in heaven’s name have you done, George? Go see a doctor. Now." Her tone made it clear that there was no arguing with her. Washington gave her a look, but didn't hesitate to follow her order. She watched him leave and then turned to Alex, taking tissues out of her bag for the second time that day, and he only then realized that he had been crying since, pretty much, the beginning of Washington's rant. She sat on the chair her husband had occupied earlier. "Do you want me to or...?"

"I'm fine," he said, reaching out for the packing with his left hand, minding the IV.

"I knew this would happen, but there was no way of stopping him. I'm sorry that he was so harsh, Alexander," she spoke as she gently stroke Alex's wet face, unable to resist what the maternal instinct was telling her to do.

"So, you heard it all?" He managed between blowing his nose.

"Well, it wasn't that hard with how furiously loud he was. However, and although he shouldn't have done it like that, I can't disagree with what he said, and neither can you, Alexander. I know you're suffering, but you got so lost in your own misery that you didn't even realize you were just a step away from ruining way too many lives. It's already hard enough for them with their parents divorced, Alex. They need you alive, George needs you alive and if that doesn't speak to you, your country needs you alive, son." He tried to avoid her stare the entire time, but that last word made him glance at her, and the suffering in her eyes was just too much. He felt a sudden rush of unbelievable guilt drop heavy on his chest and, as much as he hated himself for it, let the salty drops fall down his face one more time.

"I'm so sorry, I... I had no idea that this could happen, I..." He stopped halfway, ashamed of the sudden diappearance of his sharp tongue and emotional composure, small sobs sneaking after every other word.

"Alex, you hadn't slept in what, 4 days? and eaten in even more. You're a smart, grown man. Did you expect your body to feed on cosmic energy?" She sounded like a mother disappointed with her child.

"No, I just... " He wanted to say so many things, but the words didn't seem to be there. Instead, he let out one more sob, hyperventilating a bit.

"Shh, it's okay, it's okay." Martha lifted from the chair, carefully pressed his head to her chest in a calming manner (he noticed he had a bandage on it, he must had hit something while falling) and just let him cry, wetting her shirt all over. She didn't seem to mind, though.

When he calmed down a bit, she spoke again. "You've been through a lot this morning, you should try to have some rest. I'm going to find George and check on him now, is that fine? Do you want me to stay?" He shook his head. "Do you need anything?"

A question crossed his mind, but he wasn't sure if he wanted to know the answer. He decided on giving it a shot; he had nothing to lose at this point.

"Have you called Eliza?"

Her face fell, almost as if she had been scared he would ask. "Yes. She said that once you feel better she might let the kids visit you."

That was it. A reluctant allowance to see the kids. After all the years, all they had, after he almost died... He didn't even have it in him to cry anymore at this point. Martha silently watched him, seeking for his reaction. He just gave her a nod. She nodded back and soon after that she was gone.

Alex was left by himself, and for the first time in his life, he was devastated by it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huge thanks for all the kudos and comments. I know this will sound cliché as hell, but they really mean world to me!
> 
> Enjoy!

Sleep had never been something he'd waited or wished for, yet there he was, praying to a god he didn't believe in for the blessing of unconsciousness to just fall on him and cut the never stopping stream of thoughts like a guillotine. It felt as if there were a thousand people in his head, yelling and knocking and begging for attention. When he thought about it like that, it sounded as if was nuts, _but he wasn't_ . That had always been the way ideas came to his mind - persistent and screaming to be considered, to be written down. For the longest time, he had thought of it as an advantage, something that made him the man he was, made him special, but right now, he wasn't so fond of it anymore. He actually wished to just stop thinking. What would happen now? Washington had been furious, but hadn't even really mentioned _work_ . Did he still find Alex useful? Did he still need him, like Martha had said? Martha... He was trying his best to avoid thinking about their talk, but he just _couldn't_. The sound of her quoting Eliza kept ringing in his ears, bringing fresh tears to his already burning eyes. He was a helpless mess and, to add to that, he could feel the remainings of the meds he had been given wearing off, resulting in a comeback of the pulsating pain.

Just when he could swear he was on the very edge of losing his mind, the door to his room opened. For a moment, he was terrified of another _talk_ with either Martha or George, but instead of one of the Washingtons, a doctor walked in. Alex let out a silent sigh of relief, quickly trying to clean his face with the sleeve of the hospital gown.

"Good morning, Mr. Hamilton. I’m doctor David Hosack. How are you feeling?" Alex was incredibly thankful for how quiet his voice was. He was probably aware of the fact that his head was still exploding.

"Could be much worse." A half truth, to be honest. He had gone through pain hundreds of times worse than this, but at the same time, he wasn't sure if he could recall feeling that ruined in every other way. _The letter maybe_ , he thought, _or the divorce_ . But back then he had been thankful for being alone, for being left to process everything by himself. This time the loneliness was overwhelming, a sensation he hadn’t known before. Alexander cleared his throat, realizing he had been silent for a little too long. "When can I get out?" he asked, because that was honestly all that he really cared about at the moment. He just wanted _out_ , to lock himself in his office and never go outside again.

"I suggest we slow down a bit. Don't you want to know what happened?" The doctor gave him a slightly confused look.

"No. No, I don't. I want to get out. When can I get out?" He knew his tone was way too harsh, but he was too tired and frustrated to be nice.

"Sir, with all due respect, you almost died. I'm sorry, but we'd like to keep an eye on you for at least 3 more days. Other than that, I don't know if you're aware, but in cases like this, the procedure is bit more complicated. I'd like to have a longer talk about the issue we both know there is."

"In what cases, and what issue?! I have no idea what you're talking about, so if you could stop wasting my time and just tell me, that would be nice." He was honestly so full of this guy. The very little sympathy he had gained for him just a few minutes ago was fading with every passing second. What was he even going on about?

"Sir, your syncope was caused by eating and sleeping disorders that are considered self harm. We have to treat that similarly to a suicide attempt, which means we won't let you out unless we're sure you're psychically stable and under appropriate treatment."

Alexander felt as if a red curtain fell on his eyes.

"What the fuck are you trying to insinuate? I'm not mental, I've never been nor am I currently, and I’ve never been in need of any fucking treatment. What do you think I am, an emo teen? I'm an important person, I mean more than you ever will, and I know exactly how to deal with my problems without the input of some random, unknown doctor like yourself. Get out now or I'll sue you for defamation, and you can be damn sure I'll win. Get the fuck out!" He yelled, ignoring the growing pain in his temple, and pointed at the door with a shaking hand. He wasn't sure if the doctor got scared or if he just figured that there was no point in further conversation, but he left immediately. Alexander wasn't exactly proud of his rage outburst, but at least it worked.

Not long after that a nurse came in, removed his IV (at least for the time being, she said) and gave him some pills to swallow. Alex was bouncing with anger, but he was still reasonable enough to take them. He just wanted to finally get up and be able to at least walk on his own, but when he asked her about that, she strongly refused, spitting out thousands of medical terms to justify it. When she left, Alex found himself surprisingly sleepy. Well, _maybe god actually listened to my prayers_ , he muttered to himself right before passing out, not getting a chance to consider the doctor's words.

He woke up from a dreamless nap about two hours later and when he opened his eyes, he couldn't help but curse silently under his breath. _Will the nightmare of waking up to George Washington staring at him ever be over?_

"We need to talk, Alexander."

_Yeah sure, because the last time went so well that they needed a repeat of it in less than a fucking day..._

He looked Washington over, remembering how their first discussion had ended, and noticed the bandage on his hand.

"Yes, yes we do. If I might point something out, though, you're going to run out of hands to break very soon, sir." Normally, Alex would never dare to speak to Washington like that, but he was so fucked already that he didn't even try to control himself. It seemed like the nap hadn't helped with the anger at all; rather, it had just increased it.

"I'm just going to pretend I didn't hear that, Hamilton." With one look, Washington silenced all the childish sassy comments that were playing on the very end of Alexander's tongue. When the older man saw that he succeeded in shutting Alex up, he continued. "Yes, I got carried away, but do you know why? Because I care about you. How long have we known each other?" Memories from the military ran through Alex's mind like a slideshow.

"For, pretty much, over half of my life, sir." He answered, looking down on his blanket and feeling the shame rise in him once again. What the hell had he been even thinking, snapping at Washington like that?

"That's right, son. And how many times have you seen me being this emotional about anything?" Washington let the uncomfortable silence fill the room, looking at Alex in a way that suggested he wasn't waiting for an answer this time. "Sweet Jesus, Alexander, I really wish I didn't give a shit about you, I wish I was able to just punish you for your incompetence and move on. But I can't, because _I care_. As I said, well, yelled -" he visibly frowned at the memory, "earlier today - I treat you like a son. And I'm not going to watch you destroy yourself more than you already have. I have been thinking about it for so long, and as much as I hate this solution, it seems it’s the only reasonable way of saving you." He paused to take in a long breath, another thing Alex hardly ever had seen him do. As he exhaled, Alex felt shivers run down his spine, a little flame of fear slowly growing bigger and bigger in his heart, overpowering whatever was still left of the anger. "I'm going to offer you a deal, Hamilton, and you either take it or lose your job, is that clear?"

Alexander's voice seemed stuck in his throat, his tongue suddenly feeling too big and too heavy, as if it was trying to choke him. He somehow managed a shaky "Yes, sir". The effort he had to put in that one answer could be compared to the effort it usually took him to keep that _smart mouth_ of his shut.

"Good. Now listen carefully. You're going to take a break, a long one, because you need it. Your seat is going to be waiting for you, but only under one condition - you'll start therapy." Washington looked at him as if to check if he was still following. Alex gave him a nod. Therapy most certainly wasn't something he would be happy about, but as long as he could get out of the hospital and keep his job, he was fine with it. A few weeks’ break maybe wasn't going to be that bad either. He could work from home.

"That's fine with me, sir." Once again, he put all the strength he had into the answer.

"No, Hamilton, that wasn't my entire offer. You are going to start therapy at a closed psychiatric hospital of my choice." Alex opened his mouth, words of immediate protest ready to get out, but Washington read him in a second, rising his healthy hand in a shushing gesture and giving him the most deadly stare he had ever seen. "Don't talk. I don't trust you to get through this all by yourself, and Martha and I are too busy to take proper care of you. This is the only way we can do it. I'll leave you to think about it, but that's my final proposition. If the answer is no, well then, that's where our professional paths part. Please let me know when you de-"

"Yes." Alex didn't even know where his voice came from, but it did, before Washington had a chance to finish speaking. It sounded close to a sob and two tears followed it, but it was clear enough for Washington to understand.

"Alexander, you really don't have to make this call right n-"

"I said yes." This time he didn't sob and the two tears from earlier were long gone. He went on, trying to remain as calm and neutral as possible, for once in his life taming his temper. "I've lost enough in my life. I cannot afford to lose my career, no matter what the price is."

Washington stood before him for a while, clearly thinking the entire situation over, to finally give Alex a small, understanding nod and walk out without any more words.

It wasn't until a few minutes after he had left that the realization of what he had just agreed on sank deep into Alexander's bones, leaving him paralyzed and more helpless than he had ever imagined was possible.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: awful, awful humor and some cheesy Washingtons fluff (to ease the pain of we all know what :'( )
> 
> Also, a little intro to the chapter: Hammie children are younger than they should be post Reynolds Pamphlet and the action is set in Washington DC.
> 
> Enjoy!

The remaining of his hospital stay was a blur. Different doctors examining him, nurses giving him injections and meds, the Washingtons dropping by from time to time, and, to his relief, no visit from any kind of psychologist that would try to make him talk about how he had felt when his dad had left or when his mom had died and make amazing theories about his entire life based on that. After 4 days, he was finally discharged.

He went to take a shower before leaving; dried his hair while taking in the sight of his tired, almost grey face in the mirror. He hadn't realized how much weight he had lost before. His cheeks were hollow, no sign of the chubbiness he had gained in marriage, with Eliza forcing him to not only eat on a normal schedule, but eat much more than he probably should. He had never complained, though; her cooking was amazing. The beard that got longer during his stay was only adding to the effect, but he didn't want to shave there, that could wait until he got to his apartment. He took a few steps back to have a proper look at his figure and frowned at how awful his suit looked on him. He hated seeing men dressed like that so much, their jackets and trousers hanging on them like thrash bags. Yet there he was, looking not much better than a teen going to the prom in their first, cheap, off-the-rack suit. He kept frowning for one more minute, but finally decided that there wasn't much he could do about it right then and attempted to just straighten the fabric with his hands a bit. Still, no matter how bad it fit him, he was more grateful than ever to finally be able to change from the hospital gown to actual _clothes_. He had insisted on wearing a suit even though Washington had told him there was no reason to dress up. But for Alex that didn't matter. For him, it was like an army uniform, a sign that he's perfectly well and can go back to his job in the blink of an eye. One more adjustment to the tie and he left the bathroom, walking into Washington, who was standing with his bag already in hand. He must had heard the blow dryer turn off.

"You ready, Alex?" he asked, a very small, polite smile on his face.

"Yes, sir," Alex answered and made to take the bag from him, but he shook his head.

"You're not carrying anything." Even though his decision sounded incontestable, Alexander wouldn't be himself if he didn't try to argue.

"But sir, your hand?” Washington was still wearing a bandage.

"My hand is just fine, Alex.”

"But sir, there's barely anything in my bag. I'm not a child, I can still take care of myself-"

"I think acknowledging that no, you can't take care of yourself, was a fundamental part of our deal, Alexander. Although we can break it at any moment, if you want." Washington stopped him mid-sentence, smile still in place, despite the coldness of his tone.

He shut up. To have Washington carry his belongings and basically walk him to the car, trying to grab his arm on the stairs (the look Alexander gave him had to be so deadly that he gave up on that one) was an awfully strong punch to his ego, but he was aware that he had brought it upon himself and that Washington was still way too angry to deal with his shit. If there was something that he still cared about, it was his job. He had dedicated his entire life to be where he was, and he most certainly wasn't going to throw it all away. Even if that meant being locked in a _psychiatric ward._ He had done worse things for his position, he thought to himself. He could get past that, and past Washington babysitting him for the rest of his life. It was nothing compared to all the sacrifices he had made - his dignity, his honor, _his marriage._

He got lost in his thoughts and it took him a while before he realized they weren't driving to his apartment.

"Sir, I thought you were taking me to pack my things?" He asked, confused.

"I am, Alex."

"Then why aren't we going to my flat?"

"Alexander, there's no point in trying to continue this." Washington gave him a hard, disapproving look, but it disappeared as soon as he noticed the genuine surprise on his face. "Wait, you don't remember, do you?" All the annoyance was suddenly replaced with worry that Alex had come to know all too well during his hospital stay as Washington turned back to watch the road. "You're not living there anymore, Alex. I called the landlord to let me in so I could bring you some clothes when you were still unconscious, and he told me you had moved out two weeks ago. I tried to find where your new place was, when I realized you had moved into your office." Washington shook his head slightly while saying the last words, as if he blamed himself for not knowing Alexander's actions earlier.

It all came back to him then. He remembered that he had wanted to find a smaller place, because his current one was way too big for him to keep all by himself, and he didn't want to hire a cleaning lady. He remembered moving to his office _just temporarily, just for few days_ because he had been too busy to look for apartments at that time, his hands full with stuff labelled as "to be done by yesterday"...

He didn't dare to speak for the rest of the ride. By the time they got to the office, the building was almost empty. He nodded at a few familiar faces as he made his way to his cabinet.  He didn't have much there, and most of it was still packed in two bags that he had put in the closet, so it wasn't going to take long. He had left the rest of his belongings at a repository; there was no way he could bring them here. He opened the closet and eyed the suits hanging there. He sighed and assumed he wouldn't be going to need them. He took out the bags, opened one of them and picked a few things that were lying around - a pile of papers, an unfinished book, a pen. He reached for a frame that was standing on his desk and hesitated a bit, his hand freezing halfway. He looked at the smiling faces of his children, gathered around Eliza, Alex Jr. tugging at her dress, James wrapped in blankets and pressed tightly to her chest. He took the picture the day they got back from hospital, when he was only 4 days old. He felt a knot forming in his throat, eyes going just a tiny bit misty with the realization that he's not there to see his youngest child's first steps, to hear his first words, to calm him down at night when he has fever caused by toothing. That he robbed him of the experience all his siblings had. He swallowed, pushing it away, finally grabbed the frame and made to pack it when he heard Washington's voice coming from the corner.

"You might want to take it out, I'm pretty sure glass in any form is forbidden at the clinic."

Of course. Anger crawled in him, but he didn't let it show, just nodded and took the photography out, putting it carefully in the book not to damage it. Alex had thousands of pictures on his phone, but he had the feeling that he wouldn't be allowed to keep it either.  He zipped the bag and let out a silent sigh as Washington picked them up.

"Where are we going now, sir? Straight to the ward?" he asked, not sure of what Washington had in plans.

"You're going to spend the night at our house, son. Let's go, Martha is waiting with dinner."

He hadn't lied. When after an hour-long ride they arrived at Mount Vernon, the entire residence was filled with the smell of food.

"We're here, honey!" Washington yelled from the door, and Alex suddenly felt extremely uncomfortable and out of place as he watched Martha with an apron around her hips emerge from the kitchen and catch her husband in a loving kiss, standing on the tips of her toes to make up for the height difference. They looked like teenagers in love, not a couple with about 30 years of history. He turned his gaze away - it seemed so utterly wrong to invade their privacy like that - but Martha didn't give him much time for the discomfort to deepen, as she broke the kiss and moved to him, embracing him in the tightest of hugs.

"Go show him his room very quickly and come to the dining room! Everything is ready!" she said when she finally let Alex go, and they immediately obeyed.

When he was following Washington upstairs, he heard her call after them from the hall "Don't forget to wash your hands!" and despite all the tragedy, all the tension and anger of the past few days, few weeks, few months to be honest, he burst into the most wholehearted laugh, almost breaking into a cough, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. Washington tried to give him a disapproving look, but managed to resist for only few seconds before joining him. It took them good three minutes to compose themselves and Washington finally managed to speak, wiping his wet face with his palm.

"All jokes aside Alex, if you tell anyone about this, I swear to God I'm going to have you deported." His tone serious, eyes holding Alexander's stare for a moment before they broke into hysteric laughter again.

"What are the two of you doing there for so long? Hurry up, for heaven's sake!" they heard Martha’s raised voice coming from somewhere downstairs as they tried to catch their breaths and finally move. When they eventually succeeded, Washington led him to a room at the end of corridor.

"This is where you're staying. I'm going to give you a few minutes to change and refresh and wait for you at the stairs." Washington said as he dropped his bags next to the bed. Alex didn't even look at the room properly, just picked a pair of khaki slacks and a plain button down from the top of his bag and rushed into the bathroom.

He was as quick as possible, not wanting to make Martha wait. Alex had been a guest there a few times, but not enough to actually memorize the rooms, so he was very grateful for Washington guiding him around.

As they got downstairs, reaching the dining room table, he gave him his most composed, professional look and in a cold tone made to question, "Sir, did you remember to-"

"Don't you dare, Hamilton. Don't. You. Dare. "

"Ok, ok." He raised his hands up in defeat, trying his best not to explode again.

"Have you washed them, though?" Washington asked quietly, and that did it. At this point, he couldn't even laugh anymore, so he just let his body shake, his abs hurting.

"Well I'm glad to see your moods went up, boys! Although I'd be even happier if you could leave more laughing attacks for later, the soup is getting cold." Martha said as she joined them at the table, smiling widely and warmly.

Alex was amazed how one silly thing could make the atmosphere shift. They spent the evening joking, remembering old times, discussing all the light topics - Alex was even honored to find out as one of the very first that the Washingtons were going to become grandparents in the early winter. And for a brief moment, sitting there with them, finishing his apple pie, he thought that maybe, just maybe, things could be fixed. That maybe there was a chance for him to pull everything together once more.

But it all flew by fast, and he found himself sitting in the dark of the guest room, phone in his hand, much earlier than he'd want.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear that Burr will make an appearance soon. Soon. But not just quite yet :'D


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This came out to be much longer than the other chapters, but I'm considering making all my chapters at least 3000 words from now on (especially since WE'RE FINALLY GETTING TO HAMBURR OMG GUYS). Let me know what you think!
> 
> Enjoy!

It took him 10 minutes to open his contacts list and another 20 to search for her name, even though he knew the number by heart. Alex felt repulsed with himself, with how big of a coward he had become, how pathetic he kept acting. He didn't want to do this. He had no idea what her reaction would be, but none of the scenarios playing in his mind were anywhere near cheerful. He was about to put the phone away, when he heard Washington's voice in his head, breaking through the stream of his thoughts.

"You should call her yourself, ask if you can say goodbye to the kids. We can stop there for a few minutes on our way tomorrow. You probably won't have a chance to see them for a while," the older man had said.

Alex knew he was right. He had no idea how long his therapy would take and wasn't sure if Eliza wouldn't try to have his rights to children taken away afterwards; he was "psychically unstable", after all, and she was still far from being even _neutral_ with him. He didn't know how far she could go in her anger and he hoped that he would never have to find out. Would she try to take her revenge? Was she capable of going to the extremes and involve the children in it? Maybe it was his last chance to ever see them. That idea made him freeze, a shiver running down his spine, but instead of breaking into a useless mess for the millionth time that week, he pushed himself as hard as he could and finally pressed 'call'. As the signals rang in his ear, he wondered if she'd even want to pick up at all. She did, on the fifth one.

"I'm putting James to sleep." She sounded so tired that Alex almost felt guilty about calling her. "Could you call tomor-"

"Eliza, please." He didn't want to push, but he knew there would be no time for another try.

"Fine, give me one second." A minute of silence followed, ending with what he assumed was the sound of door closing and a heavy sigh. "So, what do you need? How's your health?"

"That's actually why I'm calling you, I need to inform you about something. I... I'm..." _Oh, great. It's not like you've been thinking this through for the past 30 minutes and still ended up not being able to form a sentence,_ he thought to himself as he frowned.

"Alexander what's going on? Are you okay?" he was slightly taken aback by how real her worry seemed, and that didn't help the already delayed process of sentence forming. "Are you still there, Alex? Alex?!" her voice was not only concerned now, but also raised. Before he could answer, he heard some voices from the background.

"Mommy, are you talking with daddy?" Angelica. She must had heard her mother's louder tone.

"Go back to bed."

"Is daddy coming back?" That came from Philip. Foreseeable, those two were almost inseparable.

"Please, go back to bed."

"I want daddy to come back!" Angie sounded like she was on the edge of crying and any remainings of self control Alex had thought he was holding crumbled, heart breaking, tears falling down his cheeks. He missed them so much. Missed them every single day, every hour, every minute. Breakfasts were unbearable without their smiling faces - which was why he had stopped eating them. Evenings in his apartment too lonely and quiet, which was why he started spending them at the office. His entire life was meaningless and empty without them, and the awareness that it would never change, that he had ruined it forever, was just devastating.

"We'll see, okay? Now the two of you go back to your rooms, you'll wake up your brothers."

Another minute of silence. "If you feel like telling me I shouldn't make promises that I can't keep, then you might as well just hang up right now." She sounded even more tired and he could only imagine how hard it was for her, too.

"I have no right to judge you, Eliza, and I'm aware of that." He managed in a relatively steady voice while wiping his face with sleeve.

"Good. Now can you please tell me what's going on?"

"I'm out of the hospital. I don't know how much Martha told you, but I'm feeling fine."

"I'm glad to hear that, but what is this about then?"

It was his turn to sigh before finally finding enough courage to tell her.

"I'll be starting therapy at a closed psychiatric ward tomorrow." He let the words out as fast as he could, as if the less time he spent saying them, the less real they would be.

"Oh."

"I don't know for how long I'll be gone, so I thought that maybe I could say goodbye to the kids? You know, since it's Saturday and they don't have day care so there would-"

"And school," she interrupted him half-sentence.

"What?"

"Philip is going to school."

"Ah, yes of course, you know what I meant." It was still hard for him to believe that his eldest was already in 1st grade. He was terrified with how much he had missed over the what, 5 months since Eliza had kicked him out? How much James had grown, how intelligent little Alex had become, how talented Angelica had come out to be and how mature Philip had started acting once he had started school...

"Okay." He almost jumped a little, dragged out of his thoughts.

"Sorry, what?"

"You can come see the kids." He hadn't even dreamed it would be so easy. Maybe she wasn't that furious with him anymore?

"I'll be there around 8am, then. Thank you Eliza, it-" she hung up, not letting him finish. _Well, there goes the "not that furious",_ he thought.

Alex put his phone on the bedside table and sat in silence for a while before standing up and deciding on having a quick shower. When he was done, he wrapped a towel around his hips and went to brush his teeth, but when he was reaching for the toothbrush he had left there earlier, he noticed an electric shaver on the shelf under the mirror with a note stuck to it: "For the love of God, please make use of it". He smiled as he plugged it in. Martha was right, he really should shave if he didn't want to scare his kids.

Even though it wasn't that late when he was finished, Alex found himself nearly falling asleep every time he blinked.  As much as he hated to admit it, he still wasn't back to being completely fine, and such an active day had been rather exhausting for him. As soon as he lay down and set the alarm, his eyes closed involuntarily and he fell into restless sleep.

 

\---

 

His phone started annoyingly buzzing at 6:00. Opening his eyes, he felt even more tired than before. It was almost as if his brain had been working twice as fast as usually the entire night to provide him with the weirdest, most disturbing dreams (the first ones in months, he realized). He hastily got ready and when he was about to pick his bags and run downstairs, he heard someone knocking on the door.

"Yes?"

"Good morning. I came to pick your bags, can I come in?" he heard Washington, and thought that this must be some kind of cruel joke. _Did the Washingtons have a camera in his room, or were they both just blessed with some kind of sixth sense that told them when to treat him like a five-year-old?_

"Sure."

"You should go downstairs, Martha made breakfast," the older man said as he opened the door.

"I'm not hungry." _Yup, definitely a sixth sense._

"Well, then go tell her that yourself." For some reason, Washington smiled before gesturing for him to go first and following with his bags.

Alex wasted no time and rushed out of the room and downstairs, then headed to the kitchen, a tiny bit proud of himself when he didn't get lost. _At least my memory is still working pretty well,_ he muttered to himself, refusing to acknowledge that it had been the smell rather than his memorizing skills that had led him. Martha gave him her warmest smile when he entered and before he knew, he was sitting at a small kitchen table, eating pancakes, suddenly knowing why Washington had been so amused when he had told him to speak with her himself. There was no escaping Martha's kindness and love, no matter how much one tried to resist. When he was finishing the third serving she had pushed on his plate, he heard her voice coming from the living room.

"Hamilton, where on earth have you been?!"

He got up and headed there, unsure if he misheard something.

"Excuse me? Did you call?" he looked at Martha who was standing in the big glass terrace door.

"Oh, no, I wasn't talking to you." He could swear that for some reason her cheeks turned slightly red as her eyes traveled down, and only then he noticed a big, grey cat fawning at her feet.

"But I was pretty sure I heard my name?" he gave her a confused stare.

"Um, well Alex, meet Hamilton." She bent down to pet the cat.

"... You named a cat after me. "

"I'm sorry, I did. But it was years ago, and the two of you were just so alike that I couldn't resist," she said in a deadly serious voice.

"Well, I'm honored." Alex couldn't help bursting into laughter once more, imagining Washington telling the cat to get off his lap or stop scratching furniture. It hit him how much more he had laughed and smiled during not even 24 hours there at Mount Vernon than over the span of the last six months.

"Alex, we should go, are you finished?" His mood immediately dropped when he heard Washington from where he stood in the doorway. He looked at Martha, as if she could stop all this.

"Oh, Alexander..." she pulled him into a tight hug. "Please hang in there, okay? I'll visit you whenever I'll be able to..." she moved one hand from his back to her face to wipe a grey tear colored with the little bit of mascara that she was always wearing. "Promise me you won't do anything stupid?"

Alex was looking at his feet, desperately trying to avoid her gaze and hold it all together.

"Son?" she gently lifted his chin up with her fingers.

"I promise."

"Thank you. Now go, don't waste the little time you could be spending with your kids."

One more tear, one more hug, and he was following Washington to the car. They didn't talk at all, the older man entirely focused on the road, Alexander staring blankly at some non-existing point on the horizon. After little over an hour, they arrived at what used to be Alex's home.

"Go, I'll wait in the car or take a walk," Washington offered, but Alexander knew it wasn't an option.

"Sir, Eliza would kill me if she found out I didn't invite you. Please, come in with me." The corners of his mouth raised with a bittersweet smile as he thought about her, and how disappointed she always had been with him when he hadn't been nice enough to someone.

His legs felt like cotton as he climbed the few stairs and rang the door bell. He could hear every beat of his pounding heart as they waited. _What had he become, a father stressed out about seeing his own children..._

It was almost as if stone fell from his heart when after a minute he finally heard the sound of steps followed by children's voices and a key turning in the lock, breaking the almost perfect silence of the peaceful neighborhood. Before the door even fully opened, Angie was clinging so tightly to his leg that it was nearly painful.

"Daddy." Alex realized she was sobbing. He squeezed his jaw so it wouldn't visibly shake and picked her up, gently pressing his cheek to her head.

"Hello, princess." When he placed a small kiss on her forehead, he felt Philip hugging him around his waist. _God, he was so tall_. Angie had her arms wrapped on his neck, so he could easily hold her with just one hand and move the other to pat his son. "Hello, big boy. Look at you, you're soon going to be taller than daddy!"

"That's not hard at all. I want to be taller than sir Washington!" He pointed a finger at Washington, who tried his best not to laugh. Alexander was still amazed with how different he was outside of work, how much more... human. Smiling, laughing, loving, completely unlike the cold, composed politician he had known him to be.

"Ahem." Eliza cleared her throat and only then he noticed that she had been standing there the entire time. "Kids, where are your manners? How about a 'good morning' to our guest? And Philip, what have I told you about pointing fingers?"

"Good morning," they said together, sheepishly, and Washington responded, but Alexander was too focused on something else, eyes traveling down to where a third voice was coming from behind Eliza, and saw a head lurking and quickly hiding back.

"Oh and hello there, Alex! My son, so talented, he can be invisible! " He said into the air, pretending he hadn't seen him. "What a shame, though, I can't give him a hug now... "

"No!" little Alex screamed and ran from his hideout, aiming for the leg Angelica had occupied earlier, and Alexander couldn't help but smile in the most wholehearted way. _No therapy can heal me better than them,_ he thought.

"Come in, please. James is still sleeping, he had a rough night, he's still toothing." Eliza opened the door wider, and they walked in (to be honest, walking being a way too sophisticated word for Alexander's poor attempts at moving while carrying Angie, being dragged forward by Philip's hand and Alex hanging mercilessly on his thigh).

When he was sitting there on the floor of the living room, wearing a tiara, having tea with two dolls, three teddy bears, one monster truck and an alien, he thought that if he could turn back time, if he could trade his position, reputation, money just to have this back, he wouldn't hesitate even for one second.

But the damage he had caused couldn't be undone, and he knew it.

After about two hours, when he was helping the kids to clean up all the toys, Eliza, who had been chatting over coffee with Washington since they had gotten in, finally entered the room. He expected her to tell him it's time to leave, but she didn't.

"Can I steal you for a second? I need to talk with you." He knew her so well, yet when his eyes met hers, he couldn't read her. Something in the look she was giving him seemed wrong, unfamiliar.

He got up and wanted to go out of the room, but was met with a choral "Daddy, don't go!" protest.

"Shhh, I just need to talk with mommy. It will be like hide and seek, you won't notice I was gone at all! You can even count to 200. Promise!" Their faces looked rather disappointed, but it worked. As he closed the door behind him, he heard Philip's "1,2,3..."

"What is it?" He was still concerned with her weird expression earlier.

"I..." She looked down, searching for words. "First of all, I just wanted to tell you that yes, I'm still angry at you, words cannot describe how much you've hurt me. Every time I see you it feels like someone is stabbing a knife into my not even partly healed wound," she frowned, avoiding his gaze and took a deep breath before continuing, "but despite that, you're still the father of my children, and no matter how hard I try, I still worry about you." At this, she forced herself to meet his stare, giving more power to her words and letting them sink. "So please, please take care of yourself. I mean it, Alexander. They need you more than you can imagine." She nodded into the direction of the living room and paused for a few seconds.

"Thank you." Alex was taken aback by this little shift in their relationship. Sure, they weren't even close to being friends again, but she still _cared_ , and that warmed his heart and made a sudden guilt rise in him, disgusted about his earlier assumptions of her using his state against him. "And the other thing?" he said, breaking the silence.

"Excuse me?" Eliza blinked rapidly, he must have dragged her out of some contemplation.

"You said ‘first of all’, so I assumed that you wanted to talk about something else?"

"Ah yes, sorry. Well, I... I don't really know how to... but I felt like you should know and-"

"Daddy, daddy, we already got to 250 and you're still not back! That's cheating!" Angie loudly complained as she stormed into the room and grabbed his hand.

"One more minute, angel, mom had something important to-"

"No, actually, I think it can wait. It's not the best moment. Go, Alex."

"Are you sure, darling?" He only realized as the tender name left his mouth that he really shouldn't call her that, but instead of the expected "I'm not your darling", all he got was a nod and a smile that didn't reach her eyes.

They left after half an hour filled mostly with hysteric crying and "Daddy, please don't leave". It was always like this when he had to go, or when he was dropping them back after a weekend together, and he was sure that the 1000th time would still hurt just as much as the first had hurt. It was unbearably depressing, but there was no other way. He had to be ready to go through this every time he was seeing them.

When they finally made it to the car, Alex felt so ruined and exhausted that he didn't even try to stop his tears. He was surprised when instead of the sound of an engine starting, he felt Washington's hand on his arm.

"Son, are you going to be okay?" he took a tissue out of his pocket and offered it to him.

Alex accepted it gratefully, and after cleaning his face gave him a small nod. "Yes, I'm fine. I'm sorry."

"Don't be. We're not at work, you can feel and express all the emotions you want." He sounded genuine, but Alexander still couldn't get over this, over breaking on the eyes of his boss so many times. Over breaking on the eyes of Washington himself.

"No, I'm just so useless and weak I don't even control myself anymo-"

"Stop, Alexander. Please. You have every right to cry. I would've cried if I had to keep leaving my children like this." Alex was about to say something, but that last sentence shut him up. _His children_. He had always admired Washington for what he did for Martha's kids - being a father was one thing, something that almost every man was capable of, but becoming a _dad_ was something else - and on the occasions he had met them, he had never heard any of them refer to him in a different way than "dad". He had sometimes wondered if he would've done that too, if he would've been able to become a _dad_ to children that weren't his, that were a walking reminder that his wife had once loved another man so much. And to hear Washington talk about them, and talk about his feelings so openly, was an astonishing experience.

The older man gave him one last reassuring pat, and started the car. This time, Washington tried to keep up a conversation the entire way. Alex knew he was trying to occupy him so he didn't have time to go over and over his thoughts, and he was more than thankful for it.

Alexander wasn't sure where exactly the clinic was, but they drove for about an hour before Washington turned and slowed, so it couldn't be too far from DC. Alex realized he had never been in this area, but that wasn't too surprising. After they had moved to the capital a few years ago, he had barely even left his office. Eliza had kept trying to convince him to take a break, go on a family vacation with the kids, but he had never had the time for that. _One more thing to add to the list of regrets_ , he thought, as he studied the unfamiliar surroundings. A big, grey building emerged from an enormous garden that seemed more like park.

_That has to be it._

The parking lot wasn't even half full, so they could easily leave the car close to the entrance. When Washington opened the trunk and reached for Alexander's bags, the younger man placed a hand on his forearm, making him turn.

"Sir, please, I-" he started, but Washington cut him off with a chuckle.

"Oh, you just wouldn't be yourself if you didn't argue about the smallest things, would you, son?" He asked rhetorically, chuckling again at Alex's deadly stare. "You are, very likely, the most stubborn creature I've ever known, Alexander. Here, how about you take one and I take the other?"

Alex just nodded, picked up the bag and headed to the big door, sure that going in would be something he'd regret, another vulnerable point in his already ruined reputation, nothing more than an awful waste of time and a punch to his ego, but also knowing that he had no other choice. He hesitated as his free hand touched the knob. As much as he tried to hide it and push it out of his mind, Alexander was more scared than ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who will finally appear in the next chapter!!! :D


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: very house-ish chapter (with quotes and all) 
> 
> also AARON BURR (!!!!)
> 
> enjoy! :D

“There's no going back now, son,” he heard Washington's voice from behind him.

Alex knew he was being ridiculous, but before opening the door, he turned and tried to take in as much as possible, like he was saying _goodbye_ to the outside world - deep breaths, longing eyes. The older man noticed and chuckled silently.

“Alexander, please, it's not a prison. And I'm not locking you here for the rest of your life.”

Alex clenched his jaw, looked down at his shoes, and finally pulled the knob with a hand he wished wasn't shaking so much. The woman at the reception must had recognized Washington, because before they even fully approached her, she was already on the phone, telling someone about their arrival. They waited in silence for her to hang up.

“Mr Hamilton, Mr Washington! We've been waiting.” She gave them a polite, trained smile. “Mr Hamilton, we will need you to take out your documents, phone and any other electronic devices – don't worry, we will lock them in a safe pl-”

“Yes, yes I know.” Alex cut her off mid sentence, unable to handle her robotic tone.

“Good.” She didn't seem to mind, smile still in place. Sally, as her ID badge was saying, pointed to a man waiting next to the elevator door. “This is Greg, he will help you with your bags-”

“I can manage just fine.” Something about this woman was striking him just the worst way. _If everyone here is like that, I'm going to actually turn crazy,_ he thought.

“Well, whatever you wish, but he will also need to check them – safety reasons, I hope you understand.”

Alexander clenched his fists and bit his tongue. Of course, he was prepared for that, could see it coming, but it didn't lessen the anger and shame that began to burn through him. When he was about to snap at her, he was surprised by the sound of Washington's voice.

“There's no need for that,” his tone resolute and peremptory. For a moment, Alex saw the sharp politician take over him again.

“But sir, it's-” To be honest, Alex was kind of surprised she had the courage to argue.

“I don't care. You have my word that it's not needed, and I'm taking full responsibility for this. Is that clear?” This time, she didn't say anything and just nodded, evidently scared of Washington.

She didn't dare to speak even as Alex passed her his cellphone and laptop, and he suddenly felt _a tiny bit_ bad for her. It was just her job, after all.

As they walked a few steps away and stood before the elevator, Alexander looked at Washington, thankful for saving him from the humiliation. Thankful for everything, honestly – even if Washington himself was the direct reason of his stay here, he didn't blame him for it. Washington cared. Washington was saving him. Up until what had happened that day in the office, up to being that close to death, Alex hadn't even thought he needed saving. But he knew it now, and knew that if it wasn't for his _boss's_ concern and help, things would be looking much, much worse. He remembered Washington's hand on his in the hospital, remembered the look on his face when he had woken up, the red rim around his eyes, the tear that had run down the man's cheek as he had let his anger out, and realized that he was crying himself.

“Son...” Washington's brow furrowed, and before Alex knew what was happening, the older man embraced him in a close hug. He stilled for a brief second, taken aback with this sudden, unfamiliar display of affection, but relaxed as the shock disappeared and completely broke down, unable to hide the overwhelming fear anymore, letting out an audible sob. They stood like this for way too long probably, earning themselves some stares from the patients and personnel as Washington patted his back and held him.

“Alex, I don't mind this, but I've got a feeling that if we stay like this any longer, I will read in Monday's paper that we're actually a couple,” he said into his hair after a while and Alex let out a snort, imagining the headlines, as he broke from the hug.

“Sorry, sir.”

“Oh, just stop being sorry about everything already, could you, son?” He gave him a sad smile, and Alex mirrored it.

“Do you remember when you called me that after my fight with Lee, sir?” He said after a while, breaking the silence.

“Oh Alex, I know I'm an old man, maybe my memory isn't that great anymore...” he shrugged in a _nothing you can do about it_ manner. “But your rage outburst was rather unforgettable.” He finished, his face lighting up with a grin.

They both laughed at the memory. Alex couldn't recall the exact point at which it had stopped bothering him. He just had gotten used to it over the years without really thinking about it, but now – now he started to finally recognize the reason behind it, started to understand why it kept slipping into Washington's words. He had never truly acknowledged how much Washington had done for him, how many times he had been there for him when he needed help. He had always thought it was just professionalism, that his boss was supporting him because he needed his skills and hard work. But looking back at it, Alexander realized that Washington was closer to him than anyone else, had known him for the longest amount of time, had seen him through so many situations. That he was probably the closest to the _dad_ that he had never had.  

“Please, allow them to help you, Alexander. I'm aware that you think you're smarter than anyone and know everything, but trust me, you can't deal with this by yourself. It's their job and they know exactly what they're doing. Behave, and I'll get you out of here and back to the office as soon as possible. Does that sound fair?” His voice turned professional, no hints of the earlier emotions.

“Yes, sir.” Alex felt like a five-year-old again, but they had gone through this before and he knew there was no point in trying to argue once more.

Washington put a hand on his arm, smiled sadly for the hundredth time that day and made to leave, walking towards the doors. When Alex was about to tell the worker that he was ready and let himself be led to his room, he saw Washington stop and turn.

“Oh, and Alex?”

“Yes?”

“You know, you could stop calling me 'sir'.”

Alex didn't know how to answer that. Yeah, it was probably absurd for him to keep calling Washington 'sir', considering the relationship between them, but anything else just felt _wrong_ . It was the way he showed respect, it made him feel that although they knew each other so well, he was still his boss, _his commander_ . He couldn't imagine calling him 'George', that would be way too personal, way too intimate. He had always thought that Washington prefered it the official way too, to have any signs of endearment reserved only for his closest family. Alex cringed at his own stupidity rethinking that – _if that was true, why would he call you 'son'?_

“Thanks, I'll consider that.” The corners of his mouth lifted slightly as he bit his tongue before the automatic 'sir' could escape him. Not even half as bad as he thought it would be. Strange, but not bad.

Alexander watched Washington walk away before nodding at the worker and picking up his bags, getting into the elevator. He was surprised when the guy pushed the button for the last floor.

“You're going to stay in a single room,” he said as the door opened. _Thank god_ , Alex thought. “At least for now. Unpack, doctor Jonathan Bellamy will see you in 30 minutes." _Oh, great._

The interview with the doctor went exactly as he had expected. Alex just bullshited his way out of it and nodded in agreement when Bellamy told him about his meds and schedule in the ward.

_Such a waste of time_ , he muttered as he lay on his hospital-smelling bed, staring emptily into the ceiling and wondering how long he would have to vegetate in this place, all the thoughts of actually getting some _help_ there gone.

 

\---

 

Days were dragging mercilessly, with newspaper-stealing and tv-watching (in the almost empty social room at his floor) being the highlights of his _torment_.

He didn't talk to anyone. He didn't get personal therapy. It seemed like his treatment was revolving around making him bored to death and giving him meds that he would spit into the sink later every time. Alexander was angry, frustrated, and completely not caring about the reason why he had gotten there in the first place. When the awaited Saturday that marked his week-stay there came, he packed up his bags and took the elevator all the way down to the reception.

_Jesus please, don't let it be Sally_ , he thought as the door slowly opened.

It was Sally.

He forced what he thought was the closest to a polite smile on his face, to hide his murderous mood.

“How can I help you, Mr Hamilton?” _If they were ever going to make a remake of Blade Runner, she would make for an astonishing android. Naturally talented._

“Good morning to you too, Sally! I've gained some weight, my sleeping problems are gone, and so am I! Can I get my stuff back please, darling?” He put so much _venom_ in that last word that he almost felt disgusted with himself. Almost.

“I'll check with the doctor.”

“Oh no no, no need for that. I'm here voluntarily, just gotta check with me.” Alex really hoped she wasn't going to make a big deal out of this. But that seemed like a very _Sally thing_ to do.

“I'm sorry,” _no you're not_ ,  “Doctor Burr left specific instructions.”

“And who on earth is Doctor Burr?!” God, he really didn't want to deal with another dull, fake-smiling man in an obscure white gown that pretended to care about his problems.

Sally didn't even answer him, just let out a heavy sigh, picked up the phone and soon he was following Greg around the ward. They stopped before a cabinet door with 'A. Burr, MD' on it.

“Doctor Burr is currently having a talk wi-” Well, Alexander couldn't care less, cutting Greg's sentence by simply pushing the knob and storming in.

He had to put some effort into hiding his surprise, blinking a bit too rapidly. Burr was the exact opposite of what Alex had expected – instead of an old, stodgy white man, the guy behind the desk was a vibrant Afro-American, probably around his age. Burr had stopped his conversation with Bellamy as soon as Alex entered, and now was just sitting in silence, giving Alexander a questioning stare and smile.

“Well, I thought _you_ would be a little bit more sensitive on the slavery issue,” Alex snapped, knowing how extremely inappropriate it was, but too angry to care.

To make Alexander's hackles rise, Burr's smile just widened, showing a bit of perfectly white teeth as he let out a chuckle and nodded at the Doctor Bellamy.

“Mr Hamilton! You look a lot better! It's a pleasure to finally meet you-”

“Can't keep me. I can get out whenever the hell I feel like it.” He could feel his blood boiling, pulse hammering in his ear.

Burr shook his head and chuckled more, and Alexander was at the very line of actually punching the guy, just to get that smirk off his face.

“Legally, you're free to go whenever you want, but I suggest you stay,” he said after a while, his expression turning serious. “If you thought divorce was the main source of your trouble, what led to it in the first pla-”

“For fuck's sake, people divorce, that's how life goes! That has nothing to do with my mental health and you sh-”

“You know, normally it's in the nature of my job to encourage people to share and talk, but this time, I'd really appreciate if you _talked less_ and at least let me finish. In other words, I'm asking you to shut up for 2 minutes, Mr Hamilton. Even I run out of patience on some occasions, and we're not 6 years old to snap at each other like kids.” He stood up from his chair and took a deep breath, looking Alexander in the eye. His posture wasn't intimidating, he was about Alex's height and of average build, but something in the look he was giving him caught Alex off-guard for a second. “We both know there's more to it,” he continued after succeeding to get his attention. “Your issues run much deeper than your broken marriage, and since you don't have someone 24/7 to watch over you anymore, they started to show again. It's all so much more complicated than you like to admit.”

“You're not exactly cheering me up right now.”

“Please, grow up. You're a smart man, stop acting like this.” Alex clenched his fists. “It's not about cheering you up. It's about fixing you and making you suitable to live on your own. And for that, you need to start an individual therapy, get the right medication if needed.”

“You still seem to be missing one point, Mr Burr. I can leave whenever I want. How about I start with that?”

“Sure, but you won't get your job back. Mr Washington specifically asked me to make sure you're fully recovered.”

_Of course he did_ , Alex thought, frowning. _What was I even thinking, expecting it to go so smoothly._

“Is that a popular new treatment? Blackmail? Look, all I want is to finally be out of this ridiculous place, where literally no one gives a fuck about actually helping me, and meet my children. Am I really asking for that much?!”

Burr let out a sigh, bit his lip and silently counted to ten. When he spoke again, he sounded as if he was talking to a child, slow and calm. “First of all, did you really expect us to just jump straight into deep talks about your emotions and problems on the first week you got here? Mental health is a very fragile thing, and the fact that it didn't happen only shows that we do _give a fuck_ about you. Secondly, you need to get better and you know that. Not only for your job, not for Washington, not even for your kids. You need to get better for yourself.”

Alex wished he had an answer to that. He would probably go over this talk a thousand times in his head, despising how it had gone and how badly he had done, wondering where all his rhetorical skills had been. He would prepare the sharpest, most intelligent response, biting his lips as he'd realize it was all past and he couldn't change it.

All he could at that very moment was nod.

“Welcome to the ward then, Mr Hamilton.” Burr's smile was back, but Alexander's fury had long been replaced with shame.

“What do I have to do and how long do I have to be here?” he asked in a much calmer tone, feeling his common sense slowly coming back.

“That only depends on you. The process is pretty basic. If you follow the schedule, participate in group and individual therapy, take meds, work on goals-”

“I've only got one goal.”

“Great, what is it?”

Alex imagined he wasn't in a hospital, but on the congress floor, fighting for something way more important than this. He was going to get what he wanted, no matter what. “For you to write all the leaving documentation I need so I can never see your face again,” Alex practically hissed. “Let's not waste time! I can smile through gritted teeth, play nice and talk about my mom's death all day, but you know what? I can also make this place, your job and life so unmanageable, that you'll do whatever it takes to get rid of me. So if this doesn't go quick enough, I might settle with the latter.”

“Oh, Mr Hamilton, I really hoped we were past the childish threats.” That wasn't the reaction he had expected. “Good that you're already packed, because you're moving. Let me show you your new place!”

Alex stood still for a while before following Burr, still not sure what exactly had just happened.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!  
> So, here it is! after... way too long
> 
> You know that feeling, when few little things get you out of rythm and then you find countless excuses not to get back into it again? Well that's exactly what happened to me :(
> 
> A very short chapter, to motivate myself and get back into regular posting! 
> 
> Apologies for the wait and the lenght! (...hehe.)

Burr led him to a room at the end of 3rd floor's corridor. Alex gave it a look – it seemed nicer than the one he had been staying in the last week, more spacious, with a window – but, to his horror, he realized it had two beds and the second one, judging by the mess on the bedside table, was in use.

“I don't need or want company,” he said coldly, eyeing still-smiling Burr.

“Well, that's quite unfortunate, because as long as I am the director here, I'm going to be the one making the decisions, and I'm afraid they're not going to be based on your whim, Mr Hamilton.” Burr was quickly making it up the list of people Alex despised. _A few more days and he'll beat Jefferson in the battle for the first place,_ he thought. “You're going to stay with Sam. I wish I could introduce you, but he's currently having an individual session. The two of you are quite alike! Well, despite his political believes,” he chuckled. “Please, at least try to get along. You'll be starting group therapy with him and a few other patients on Monday. Now, I'll leave you to unpack, _make yourself at home_.” Burr made to leave, but stopped and turned back to Alex while already standing in the door frame. “Oh, I almost forgot. Tomorrow's a visiting day – Mr Washington and his wife wanted to know if you'd have anything against them coming by for an hour or two,” as Alex was opening his mouth to refuse – he really didn't want to meet anyone right now, with how frustrated and angry he was – but Burr cut him off before any words could leave it, “and I highly suggest that you agree to this. You might not realize this, but having support from your significant ones is an extremely important part of therapy, and I can sense that they care about you, and vice versa. Tell me if I'm wrong?”

Alexander stayed silent for a moment, taking his statement into consideration and feeling slightly bewildered by this sudden show of inner information Burr had on him. He either had very good perceptive skills, or knew him from the media and did his research. Being his cocksure self, Alex prefered to bet on the latter.

In spite of his initial stubbornness, he let some second thoughts kick in. Maybe the idea wasn't as bad as he had thought at first. If he was going to stay here for god knows how long, he could as well vent some of his desperation on the Washingtons. It seemed like the only entertainment he'd be getting. And he could always ask them about his children, leave a message for Eliza, maybe make them convince her to visit...

Alex took a deep breath, bit his tongue and just nodded.

“Okay. Thank you,” were the last words Burr said before disappearing and leaving Alexander just to himself.

Not for long, though.

Meeting Samuel Seabury made Alexander's world turn upside down and reevaluate his “people I hate” list. Burr suddenly was feeling like a lovely company to have a chat with, jesus, he'd even take a weekend of being locked in an elevator with Thomas goddamn Jefferson over another five minutes with this guy.

He looked at the clock with thunderous eyes, and decided on just lying with his head under the pillow. It'd been little over an hour since his roommate had gotten back, and he hadn't shut up for a _single minute_ since then, managed to insult Alexander at least four times, and all this while rhyming. _If there is a god, and he wants to punish me even more for all the shit that I've done, this is the most sophisticated way to do it,_ he thought, as he heard something about fixing the US economy and cursed the too thin pillow, pressing it tighter to his ears.

Not only did Samuel Seabury not know how to shut up. He was also a Republican.

For a moment Alexander reconsidered trying to argue with him. If he had met him a few weeks ago, he wouldn't hesitate even one second. If he had met him a few years ago, the guy would probably have trouble speaking because of the teeth Alex's punch had divested him of. But now, honestly, he was just so inconceivably tired of everything – this place, Burr, work, Washington, his entire life. Before he could compose himself and push away all these thoughts, he felt tears accumulating in the corners of his eyes, and just let them fall and soak the pillow, not having enough strength to hold them.

Alex woke up the next day with a dull headache and stinging, swollen eyes, the inescapable results of crying himself to sleep. He tried to blink away some of the heaviness of his lids, and after a minute, finally looked around the room. He didn't know at what time he had blacked out, but he had slept for unusually long, judging by the point of the sun and absence of his _beloved_ new _friend_. He had to admit, though, that the guy actually knew how to shut up. After about half an hour of talking to his pillow-covered head, he had given up.

The clock was saying 10:12. Next to it, on the bedside table, stood a mug and a plate. He must had been asleep when the nurse had brought his breakfast – a stack of few not very appealing sandwiches and disgustingly sweet tea that had long gone cold. Alex looked at it, swallowing hard not to throw up at just the thought of eating it. He took few tissues, threw them at the bottom of the small, empty bin that was standing by the bedside table, then got rid of the food and covered it with more tissues, praying for the cleaning ladies not to find out. It felt stupid and childish to do it, but he had been eating properly the entire week, and he really wasn't in any condition to put anything in his stomach right now, so _this one time_ wouldn't do much harm, he told himself.

He picked up some clothes from his still unpacked bag and headed to take a shower, trying to avoid catching a glimpse of himself in the mirror. As much as Alexander hated this place, he had to admit that Washington had chosen a rather luxurious ward for him – it wasn't even half as bad as he had expected it to be. Most of the staff were very obliging, always there if he wanted something, and both of the rooms he had stayed in were more of a hotel than a hospital standard, with en suite bathrooms and new, comfortable furniture. He was also surprised with how little restrictions were on him – when Washington had told him not to bring a glass frame, and then when Sally had insisted on checking his bags, Alex got an impression of a house without knobs and bars in the windows, but it wasn't anywhere near that. He assumed that it depended on patients, though, because he had taken a brief look at a few rooms when he had been walking to the social room, and some of them didn't look quite like his, with no windows and completely empty apart from beds with straps - almost as in all the ridiculous horror movies.

What was bugging him so much about his stay was the waste of time and boredom that had become more than infuriating. His entire life, he had kept himself busy every single minute, taking as much as he could from every day, squeezing all he could out of the 24 hours. There had been times when that had been the only thing keeping him alive - he simply had had no spare second to be miserable and think about his feelings. Now that he had it taken away from him, all the little and, to his horror, bigger things that accumulated over the years were finding their way to his head, screaming to be thought of, to be felt and it was driving Alex crazy, slowly destroying him small piece by small piece.

One of the things that he had learnt during his stay was that it took exactly 28 seconds for the water in the shower to reach the perfect temperature. He counted silently, wondering if it would be different in this room, as he undressed himself, the yesterday's t-shirt and sweats that he had been too exhausted to change tossed carelessly on the floor. _26,_ he noted in his head, stepping into the steamy heat and quickly trying to focus on a next meaningless detail, just to keep himself from thinking.

He wasn't sure how long he had stayed there, face against the glass wall, just standing without any movement, completely still as the hot water run over his back, but when he finally turned it off and got out to get dressed, Alex noticed that the ward had suddenly become much more noisy. Even through the thick bathroom walls he could hear many unfamiliar voices coming from the corridor. The visiting time must had started.

Unfolding the fresh clothes he had picked, he wondered if they were suitable and elegant enough for a meeting with Washingtons, but came to a conclusion that neither had he the strength to truly care, nor should they have any expectations about his looks – he was a patient in a hospital, after all. Unable to keep away from his reflection for any longer, he frowned at his red, puffy eyes and stubble and just stared at himself in disgust for few minutes, before chuckling ironically and leaving the bathroom, not bothering to collect the dirty clothes up from the floor.

Alex knew he could go to the social room, or at least walk a bit around the ward, but at that moment he didn't feel like doing anything that wasn't completely necessary, so he just collapsed on top of the unmade bed and stared at the ceiling. The hot water released some of the tension in his body, easing the headache a bit, but it was still there. Instinctively, he placed a hand on his forehead, aware of how pointless that gesture was, and closed his eyes. And he waited.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: prepare for some Lams feels :'(
> 
> Also a little note: I'm not sure when the next chapter is going to be up, since both my beta and me are going on vacation, but I'll do my best to not make you wait for too long! 
> 
> Enjoy!

Waiting had never been Alexander's strong side. He had always wanted everything to happen immediately, to be in control of every single thing, including time, so he had tried to avoid  _ waiting _ whenever he could. Being constantly in a busy rush used to give him illusion of it, of always having everything in his hands. And now, there he was, studying the insides of his lids and  _ waiting _ .

After a while, he finally allowed his mind to wander, the restrained thoughts now flowing freely through his brain, but this time, instead of just giving up into the rush of emotions, he tried to put his intelligence in use, to analyze. Since the day before, Burr's words had been stuck in his head, annoyingly ringing like an alarm in the morning, creating new, unwanted paths, planting seeds of second thoughts.

**“** _ Your issues run much deeper than your broken marriage,” _ Alex repeated to himself silently, his lips lifting with a sad smile, letting memories hit him, playing in his mind like a movie. It felt so unfamiliar, so strange – he had never done that before, and hadn't thought it was actually a real thing, not just something that happened in films and books to make them more emotional and tell the story in an interesting way.

The first one, to his surprise, wasn't from childhood or even teen years. It was from his time in the army, he wasn't sure when exactly. It wasn't any kind of a special event, anything memorable or remarkable. A night, in their camp. He and John had spent the night talking and staring at the sky, both unable to sleep for some reason he didn't really remember. It was all unimportant. What mattered was that he could not bring up any other time he had been so open with anyone, not even his Eliza. That night, they had covered everything, from favorite ice cream flavors to how they felt about their fathers. Alex had gotten used to people cutting him off midway through his rants, aware that he had often rambled on way too much, getting too involved, overexcited. But John... John had just  _ listened _ . Laughed, commented with a reassuring word sometimes, and  _ listened _ to every single thing; the most insignificant and the most meaningful with the same interest. Alex had never felt more free than that night, getting all issues he had always kept for himself off his chest and being  _ understood  _ in return.

For a moment, he wondered what would his life look like if John... if John was still in it. With his smile, freckles, messy hair and the astonishing ability to break through the layers of Alexander's lies and fake bravery in seconds. Would he ever get to this miserable, shameful state if he still had  _ his _ John...

A loud, unexpected knock on the door painfully drew him out of his pondering.  _ At least it's not Sam, he wouldn't knock on the door of his own room, even he isn't that dumb, _ he thought before opening his eyes, wincing as the bright sunlight attacked them, wiping a tear he hadn’t realized had escaped him and ran down all the way to the tip of his ear, and finally answering. 

“Yes?”

“Mr Hamilton, you have guests. Would you like to come out or should I lead them here?”

Alex grudgingly weighed up his options for a brief moment – moving still didn't seem too appealing to him, but on the other hand, being locked in the surroundings of this room was starting to get on his nerves, so he ended up deciding on the former.

“Where can I meet them?” he asked, hoping he wouldn't have to sit with them in the noisy and crowded social room.

“Either in the common room or in the garden. The choice is yours,” said the woman whose voice he didn't recognize. Possibly different nurses were working on different floors. “The weather is quite lovely, if I may suggest anything,” she added after a while.

He glimpsed at the sun and blue sky outside the window. Quite nice, indeed. The bright light wouldn't help with his headache, but maybe the fresh air could balance it. And, to add to that, he hadn't been allowed to leave the building before, so a little walk could maybe keep him sane and give him a chance to wind down a bit.

Alex bent his neck to the left and then right, with lousy clicks in his bones, and with great effort shifted from the bed, getting slightly light-headed as he stood up too quickly, and grabbing the bedside table for support.

Once his balance and vision got back to normal, he opened the door and nodded at the nurse who came out to be a tall, blond-haired girl in her late twenties, with “Sarah” on her badge. He most certainly had never seen her before.

“Garden it is.”

She gave him a warm smile, nodded back and led him all the way down to the reception, where the Washingtons were already waiting.

The realization of how much he had changed in such a short period of time fell on Alex once again. Back in the day, reticent would have been the last word to describe him. He had never felt like he had been lacking something to say, like there hadn't been a topic to touch on, no matter what situation he had found himself in. He had used words as his weapon, proud of how artfully he juggled them. But now, standing there and looking at the Washingtons, he didn't feel like saying anything. Not that he couldn't find the correct way to do it, some more or less formal greeting, small talk – he just felt like he didn't need to, and he wasn't in the shape to force himself to do it. It was so new to him, choosing to stay tight-lipped without any real reason, without someone  _ making _ him.

He thanked Martha in his mind for not letting the silence become awkward and hugging him, with a stream of “I'm so glad to see you”'s, and Alex couldn't help but smile as he was met with her kindness.  _ Washington is very lucky to have her, _ he caught himself thinking, before realizing that he, once, had been blessed with a just as loving and caring wife and that luck had absolutely nothing to do with it. It was all  _ him.  _ If he hadn't been a disastrous idiot, if he hadn't ruined every single thing he had struggled to achieve for so many years, he would still have her, and much likely wouldn't know that this ward even existed. But he had made his decisions, and now he was bearing their consequences. And he only had himself to blame.

When Martha finally let him go, he looked at her husband, still ashamed of how emotional he had gotten one week ago when saying his goodbyes to him, and not really knowing what he was supposed to do. The older man seemed to sense it, limiting his greeting to a smile and nod, which Alex gratefully returned, his insecurity eased a bit.

The nurse had been standing to the side the entire time, patiently waiting for them, before showing them the way out through a labyrinth of corridors to a second entry Alex had never seen before – at the other end of the clinic, leading directly into a park with a small, fenced basketball court, some benches and even a pond. If he wasn't painfully aware of what building it was attached to, he would consider it quite a pretty spot.

As Alex walked past the door and down the few steps, his head began to spin a bit – he quickly associated it with the headache and overload of sensations that finally going to the  _ outside world _ carried with it, especially the sharp sunlight, and decided to just ignore it, confident that it would be gone after a few minutes, when he got used to this new surroundings. It had happened to him before, on the not-so-rare occasions he had just locked himself in his office, dealing with the work overload. Back when he had been living with his family, Eliza would bend over backwards to somehow get him out, force him to have a proper meal, a walk, to play with the children for a few hours, anything that could be considered a break. But since he had been on his own, no one had been reminding him about that, and he himself had never felt the need to waste his so very precious time on pointless things like that.

They walked a bit further down the path leading from the entry, sat down on a bench close to the pond, and only when Martha loudly cleared her throat he realized he had gotten lost in his thoughts. He blinked rapidly a few times and looked at her.

“Are you sure you are okay, Alexander? If you don't fe-”

“I'm fine! Sorry,” he put on what he hoped resembled an apologetic expression.

“So,” she started, eyeing him up and down suspiciously, like if she was questioning the honesty of his answer, “how have you been doing? Dr Burr didn't really tell us anything, other than he had moved you to a different room.”

Alex didn't even try to hide his frown, and Martha took it as a sign that he didn't want to share, rapidly adding ,“Don't feel like you have to tell us anything, if you prefer not to, it's more than fine, I just-”

“No no, that's not it,” Alex cut her off for the second time. “I've just been... not getting along with my new roommate too well, that's all. Other than that, everything is going perfectly good!” He tried to sound as sincere as possible and silently prayed for his acting skills to be good enough to fool her intuition.

“I'm sorry, but I can't do anything about that,” Alexander almost jumped a bit when he heard Washington for the first time that day, making his presence noticeable at last, “I've asked him to provide you the most comfortable conditions possible, but he insists on this as part of the therapy, and I can't argue with that.”

“I appreciate that, s-” Alex quickly bit his tongue, remembering Washington's words from last week. “I appreciate that, thank you,” he repeated, and could swear that a brief chuckle escaped the older man at his almost-slip.

“And how's the food here? Are you eating enough?” Martha changed the topic, sounding so  _ motherly concerned  _ Alexander was sure that, depending on the answer, she would be eager to volunteer to bring him a home-cooked dinner everyday.

“Oh yes, it's not bad at all, and now that I've found out how important it is the hard way, I'm back to eating quite regularly,” another suspicious look, and for a moment he was afraid he had gone too far in the eagerness, but after few seconds she smiled, seemingly satisfied with his answer.

“I'm very glad to hear that.” Alex felt a tiny sting of guilt in his heart,  _ but it wasn't really that far from the truth, was it? _

He had to admit that Martha's skills to keep up a conversation were quite impressive – she somehow managed not only to get them both enaged in it, but also to completely avoid anything work related, skilfully picking topics for a good few hours. When the nurse came to tell them visiting time was over, the sun was already beginning to set. They said their goodbyes at the reception and Alex headed back to his room as the Washingtons made to leave.

Walking the now quite familiar corridors, he thought that the visit had been better than he had expected it to be. It hadn't brought anything new, hadn't changed anything, and normally he would call it pointless, but now? Now it seemed like a nice distraction, something that had helped him to get through yet another day in this place without drowning in the bottomless pit of his thoughts. Alex would even consider it uplifting, if it wasn't for the complete lack of any news about Eliza or kids.

When he was pushing the knob of his door, he realized how tired, drained even, he was feeling and wished with his entire heart for Samuel not to be there. He took a deep breath and walked in, letting out a sigh of relief as he was met with an empty room and heard the shower running in the bathroom. There was a supper on his bedside table, but he didn't pay any attention to it at all – everything he wanted was to just go to sleep, and so he did, not bothering to change his clothes, just hiding under the pillow to cut all the sounds and lights out, running away into the comforting, dark emptiness.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaand we're finally back!  
> It feels good to update :D 
> 
> Warning: chapter unbetaed (is that even a word?), so I apologize if it's a bit messy :(
> 
> Sorry for the wait and enjoy!

“Hamilton!”

_Please no, let it just be a dream._

“HAMILTON, WAKE UP!”

“Would you do me this favor and shut up? I want to sleep, I'm going to sleep,” he muttered, not even awake enough to get properly angry at his roommate.

“YOU'RE GOING TO BE LATE TO THE THERAPY, WAKE UP, WAKE UP”

_Therapy._ Alex had forgotten about that. He reluctantly shifted the pillow enough to take a quick look at the room. Sam was sitting on his bed, already fully dressed and eating breakfast while staring at Alexander with interest, taking his struggle as amusement. He noticed that his own plate was already waiting for him, too, and the tea still seemed steamy, so it couldn't be long since it had been brought. Glimpse at the clock. 7:30.

“What time exactly and how often is the therapy?” He asked, afraid to hear the answer. He had become quite _lazy_ over his week there, and sleeping in late had been one of the very few things he had actually started to enjoy. If he was going to be forced not to do anything productive for the entirety of his stay, he could as well use it to catch up on all the sleep he had missed the past... _30 years, pretty much,_ and therapy, especially _therapy that had Sam,_ getting into the way of him finally having some rest was not exactly a tolerable option in his head.

“Usually 3 times a week, it start's at 8:30 but-”

“Great. Then don't ever wake me up before 8:20. Thank you,” Alex said and gave up on the getting up process, sliding under his linens and covering his head once again. It was making him feel like a 6-year-old that refuses to go to school, but at least seemed to be a good enough way to limit the _doses of Sam_ that he was getting.

He really had to be in a _sleep-supplementing mode_ , because as soon as he closed his eyes, he drifted off within seconds. The next time he woke up was to a voice of the nurse he had met the day before.

“Mr Hamilton! Your group therapy should have started 10 minutes ago, they're all waiting for you!”

_Great,_ Alex thought while unwrapping himself with bad grace and doing his best to fully open his eyes. He had never in his life been late to any event or meeting, regardless of its importance. That could mean missing an opportunity, and he couldn't afford that – he had always had to seize every single chance he had been given, hang onto anything he could. How had he even got to this point, to allowing himself to become so careless? Yes, he didn't want to go to that therapy, but that didn't mean sleeping in and ignoring it was an acceptable behavior. It was like someone had flipped a switch, turning off all his habits and making him into a different person. Or, more likely, shadow of the person he used to be.

Once he finally stood up, Alex glanced down at his clothes, wincing as he remembered he hadn't changed them before bed, and knowing he had no time for that now. It seemed the shame would never end as he walked into the room where the therapy was taking place, following the rushing nurse, and realized that she was serious about everyone waiting. Four heads turned, eyes fixed on him, as he stormed in, breaking what must had been a prolonged, dead silence, judging by how his entrance caused a woman he had never seen before, sitting close to window, to jump a little bit in her chair.

“Mr Hamilton! I'm very glad you finally made it here! As you already know I'm doctor Jonathan Bellamy, I'm hosting the group therapy, please take a sit!”

Alexander hesitantly headed for the only free chair, next to doctor Bellamy and the girl that he had scared while coming in, wanting to both drag it into eternity and to get over with the shame as fast as possible at the same time.

“Brilliant, I think we are ready to begin! Could everyone please give a short introduction of themselves, to make our new member feel more comfortable and acclimatize in our environment?” _As if that had ever been possible_ Alex thought, already fed up with Bellamy's forthright manner. “Anoyne volounteers to go first?”

“I can go first, I want to go first, we live together so he knows me, can I go first?” _God no, I’ve had enough of him today._

“I don't think it's needed Sam, you've offered me quite an insight into your life a-”

“Mr Hamilton, as far as I'm concerned, I am the one in charge of hosting the therapy,” the doctor cut Alex off, but his voice didn't rise even a tiny bit. “Please, go on, Sam” he added, keeping his annoying equanimity.

And Samuel, indeed, went on. After what Alex gauged to be 15 minutes of a very compelling story of his life, mixed with his views on the sense behind the universe and his emotions about donuts, he finally ended his speech with the ultimately random, cheery “oh and also I was molested by my uncle in my childhood!” and Alex could swear he was on the very verge of losing his mind. Little did he know that the worst was yet to come.

“That was quite an impressive introduction, Sam! You might want to condense it a bit in the future, though.” Alex coughed very loudly to cover his ironic snort at the doctor's words, scaring the poor woman next to him again, and earning a deadly stare from Bellamy. “Maybe try weighing up the importance of the information, and picking what really feels like the most essential facts. But you've done great! George, how about you go next?”

“Well to start with, I prefer to be called “Your Excellency”.” _Please don't be serious._ “Some citizens refuse to do that, but it's a legitimate title and it's important that you're aware of it.” _Jesus you are serious aren't you._ “I strongly dislike disrespect, I just find it extremely ungrateful and unjustified when the kingdom is thriving, all thanks to me, of course. I've ascended the throne back in-”

Alex closed his eyes, counted to ten, and with all the mental strength he had, dismissed the idea of jumping out of the window, at least for the time being.

He mustered some energy into shifting his focus off the endless rambling and self-eulogizing, and turned his attention to the only person in the room that seemed genuinely interesting. There was something about the uptight, silent lady that had rung a bell in Alexander's head from the very first glance, but he couldn't quite put his finger on what it was. As far as looks were concerned, she could easily be described with one word: ordinary. Dark hair, dark eyes, her rather skinny frame hidden behind a well-worn, thick, oversized jumper. If he were to be superficial, he'd put her into a “nothing special” drawer in two shakes, but for some reason, Alex found himself intrigued by her.

He could swear he had never seen her in the clinic, yet she somehow seemed familiar... Alex tried to observe her with secrecy, giving quick glances from time to time, taking in her reactions and extreme responsiveness. She was such a bundle of nerves that even though he hadn't found out what her case was yet, he was already feeling sorry for her.

“-and that's when I have to tell you about the concerning and scary aspect that my position carries with it. I'm in constant fear of my life. You see, with today's technology, the sateli-”

“George, I think that's enough. Remember our deal? No conspiracy talk. You're perfectly safe here.” Alex couldn't help but snort, earning himself another disapproving stare from the doctor.

“Alexander, the very foundation of the therapy is that you take other participants seriously and with empathy. Laughing at hardships other patients are facing is not something I will accept. I hope that's clear?”

Alex was about to just bit his tongue and give a small nod, putting a fed up expression on - he really wasn’t feeling like getting into an argument with Bellamy at that moment, but his irritation at him, and just this place in general, had been constantly growing from the moment he had entered the room, and the use of his name was like a match in the powder barrel.

“It’s _Hamilton_ ” he hissed, correcting him.

“Oh, that’s actually another thing I should inform you about. We all use first names here, so from now on, we’ll refer to you as Alexander,” Alex clenched his jaw so hard it began to shake a bit, and just when he thought it was impossible to get him any angrier, Bellamy added “Maybe you’ll give us your own introduction, then?”

“How about I don't? Can you force me?” Alex asked while locking his eyes with Bellamy's in what, at least in his head, was an intimidating way, and let an uncomfortable silence fall on the room.

“Then you don't get points and don't get to make calls or use vending machine!” Sam said in his usual, way too loud, overenthusiastic voice, breaking the silence before the doctor could even open his mouth to answer. “I wouldn-”

“Oh please just shut up, Sam, nobody cares about what you have to say.” Alex snapped silencing him, not even turning into his direction.

He honestly hadn't expected such a small thing to trigger Bellamy into finally losing his calm and had thought he'd have to put much more effort into pissing him off, but for some reason, it worked like charm. The doctor's eyebrows furrowed, stifled anger playing on his face, as he stood up from his chair and presumably silently counted to ten before speaking.

“Alexander,” he said slowly, his voice noticeably raised, but far from a scream, “I can't force you into giving an introduction speech. I can't force you into getting better, either. Be obstinate and stuck in your illness all you want. But there is one thing I do require, and that is for you to have just an ounce of respect for other patients.” Bellamy seemed to be considering ending there, but Alex, doing his best to look unimpressed, still had his eyes locked with him, causing the doctor to add “If you show this kind of discourtesy and thoughtlessness towards anyone in the future, I will have you removed from the group therapy, which will more than significantly prolong your stay here. That's all I had to say. Now please apologize to Sam.”

Alex clenched his jaw even harder, biting on the inside of his cheek until he could taste blood, never breaking the eye contact with Bellamy, weighing his options. He didn’t want to give up, didn’t want to give doctor the satisfaction of his _blackmail_ having an effect on him. He didn’t want to pretend that he’s sorry and put up a show of understanding his mistake. But he also really didn’t want to stay in this place even a day longer than completely necessary.

“I asked you to apologize, Alexander.”

It took Alex good two minutes to compose himself enough to just look at Sam, trying his best to keep his temperament at bay just for this short moment.

“I’m sorry,” he managed through gritted teeth, and quickly turned back to avoid seeing Sam’s reaction.

“Thank you. Normally, we’d only be starting, but the session seems to be quite tense, so I think we can just end here and meet again tomorrow, with fresh mindsets,” Bellamy said, and Alex silently thanked him in his mind. _Even a broken clock is right twice a day_. But he soon realized what that mean and wondered about the mysterious girl next to him. Doctor didn’t let him question that for too long, though, as if he was reading Alex’s thoughts. “Sally, I know we’ve skipped you, but do you have anything against introducing yourself on a different occasion?” he asked.

Alex turned his attention to the girl, who apparently happened to be _another Sally_ and noticed how she curled into herself, uncomfortable with being put in the spotlight. She didn’t say anything, just nodded, eyes glued on her feet.

“Okay! That wraps us up, then. Have a good day, and see you next morning!” Bellamy smiled, his annoying calm back in place, straightened some non-existing wrinkles on his clothes and headed out.

_Oh god bless, finally_ , Alex thought, and nearly shoot up from his chair, intending to storm out of that room as fast as he could.

But then, suddenly, everything went black.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More of a sneak peak/intro to an actual chapter, but once again, wanted to get back into the rythm :) 
> 
> Hopefully I'll move forward faster with the plot in the next few weeks, because dear goat, there's so much more yet to come, and I'm only at chapter 9 /o\
> 
> Enjoy!

“HAMILTON!”

A loud voice managed to break through the wall of unconsciousness. He felt a hand on his left wrist, squeezing, probably taking pulse. Bellamy, he noted, before allowing the wall to cut off his thoughts once again.

“ALEXANDER!”

Different voice. Familiar. Somebody gently holding his head up.

“ALEXANDER, DO YOU HEAR ME?”

Alex knew who the voice belonged to, but his mind was completely blank, refusing to cooperate with him. The answer was so close, yet as if behind a thick layer of mist. It was driving him crazy.

The sudden, overall heaviness that was preventing him from making any moves was overtaken by curiosity, as he put all his focus into shifting his eyelids up enough to see the face of the person holding him.

Burr.

The next time his consciousness came back, he was lying in a bed, and for some miraculous reason, he wasn’t in any kind of pain, so, still driven by the congenital curiosity, he just opened his eyes right away, ready to face the consequences of whatever had just happened. He quickly found the reason behind his painless awaking, as his eyes followed up from the IV needle in his wrist to a bag of painkillers and some meds he didn’t recognize. After sorting that out, he turned to look at his surroundings. _If there’s a George Washington sitting by my bed, I’m going to switch to the Republican party_ he thought as he began to study the unknown room, but, to his luck, there was no sign of his _boss_.

There was, however, a person Alex would very gratefully prefer to avoid seeing.

This time he didn’t need even an extra second to recall the name of the dark-skinned man standing in the corner of the room, watching him with his arms folded like a disappointed parent.

“Aaron Burr, sir!” Alex exclaimed sarcastically in a slightly hoarse voice.

“Mr. Hamilton.”

“What are you going to tell me this time? That I’m childish and irrespon-”

“Nothing, other than I expected you to be smarter than this.” Burr coldly cut him off, annoyingly staring at some non-existing point just above Alex’s head. “Your individual therapy will start sooner than planned. If this ever happens again, I’m going to have a nurse watch you eat every single meal. I hope you’re feeling better, have a nice day.”

Before Alex had a chance to respond, Burr was already gone, and the demonstrative lack of any explanations and sheer disrespect that the doctor managed to put into only four short sentences, was more than enough to make Alexander’s blood boil.

He vented some of the anger on a poor nurse that brought him dinner later that day, and even felt a tiny bit guilty about it - the girl still answered some of his questions despite looking throughly terrified, so at least he knew what had happened and what stood behind Burr’s _threats_. Alex was genuinely surprised that he had fainted again, and even more surprised by the alleged reason - up to that point he hadn’t really realized he had skipped pretty much every meal the past two days, but even then he was still doubting that was what had caused him to black out. He wasn’t going to argue more with the nurse though, she wasn’t the one to blame for any of this.

He was, however, very certain about the need to prove doctor Aaron Burr wrong, and with that thought, he fell asleep, enjoying the blissful silence of his temporal stay in a Seabury-free room.

The next morning Alex woke up painfully realizing that his IV had been removed, as his head was feeling like it was about to blow. The clock on the bedside table was saying 7:20, and just when he was rubbing his eyes in a poor attempt to properly wake up, the same nurse that had experienced his rage outburst the other day entered the room.

She took his temperature and blood pressure, and to his frustration, told him that there’s no need for him to stay in the medical care section of the hospital any longer, and that he’s not only getting back to his favorite roommate, but also more than fine to attend this morning’s therapy session.

Despite all his unwillingness, he had promised himself not to put that girl through any more shit - he might had been desperate, but not to the point of turning some random woman’s life into hell, so he just obediently followed her back to the damned 3rd floor, apologized for his behavior earlier and politely thanked her when they got to the door.

Alex took a deep breath and counted to ten before pushing the knob . God, he had been through so many awful things in his life, yet there he was, fearing some harmlessly crazy loudmouth…

“HI ALEX.”

“For you it’s Mr. Hamilton.” Alexander tried his best to remain calm, but five seconds of Sam’s company was all it took to make him see red.

“But Doctor Jonathan said-”

“I don’t give a single flying fuck about what he said. Call me Alex one more time and I swear to god I’m going to actually punch you. Clear?”

He wasn’t exactly proud of his way of solving the problem, but at least it seemed to work - Seabury momentarily curled into himself and didn’t try to say anything else. If Alex hadn’t despised him so much, he maybe would have felt slightly bad about it, but for that moment, he just hoped that his attempts at threatening were intimidating enough to get the idea of running to tell Bellamy about everything out of Sam’s head aswell. He really didn’t need to get into any more trouble.

While his roommate was rocking back and forth on his bed, Alex decided to have a much-needed shower. When he was done, breakfast was already waiting for him on the bedside table. He eyed it with a dose of disgust but keeping Burr’s words in mind, still sat down on the edge of the bed and picked one of the five peanut butter jelly toasts, ripping small bits off and pushing them into his mouth, forcing himself to swallow without really chewing at all, just to get it over with as fast as he could. Even though he was getting more and more nauseous with every bite, Alex was determined to prove Burr wrong, and show him that food was not an issue at all - he was a grown man, he didn’t need anyone to check if he ate his meal.

As he was finishing his last toast, he saw Sam get up from bed and looked at the time. 8:20. He choked a little but still pushed the very last piece of bread down his throat, washed it with some of the so far untouched tea that had gotten cold while he was eating, and followed his roommate out.

Alex barely made it through the doorstep before he was reminded of Bellamy's disgusting politeness.

"Good morning Alexander!  I hope you're feeling better today."

_Two could play that game,_ he thought, as he made for the chair he had occupied the day before.

"Thank you Jonathan, I'm most certainly in a better shape. I apologize for the scare, a small indisposition"

"Happens, I'm glad to hear everything's okay now and to see you’ve changed your attitude," he said while smiling in such a repelling way that Alex had to put all his strength into not getting up and punching him in the face, and instead just mirrored his expression, cringing internally. "Seems like we're all here, is everybody ready to start?" Bellamy gave the room a quick look as if he cared about the answer, and Alex wondered if the doctor was really stupid enough to believe in good intentions behind the sudden display of his _new attitude_ or was he just ignoring the truth.

He had planned to escape into his thoughts and just sit through the therapy without any involvement, but Bellamy’s words unexpectedly caught his attention.

“Sally, can we start with your introduction?”

Only then Alex noticed Sally was actually in the room, in the very same spot as the day before, dressed in the same oversized sweater, hidden and curled into herself so much that she almost seemed invisible.

She stood up slowly, blankly studying the floor in the middle of the circle of chairs and nervously playing with her sweater’s sleeve the entire time.

“My name is Sally, I used to work as a housemaid, I’m recovering from depression and suicide attempt,” she spit out rapidly in one breath and sat back down as fast as she could, eyes still fixed on the floor.

“Thank you, Sally. Now moving to the-”

Alex switched off again, and instead of listening tried to put the few newly discovered facts together, still not over the weird feeling of familiarity.

Over the years, he had mastered the art of locking himself in his mind, his thoughts in a completely different place than his body - it had been a useful skill, especially during endless sessions and meetings with people he couldn’t bother to care listening to, and to his gratitude, Bellamy didn’t try to get him engaged in the therapy, therefore the 1,5 hour passed pretty quickly.

When he was already in the doorway, Alex felt a hand on his arm stopping him, and turned to see doctor Bellamy.

“I just wanted to tell you that after the lunch your individual sessions will start,” he said, smile glued to his face. “You remember where to find Doctor Burr’s office, right?”

Alex nodded and smiled with a bit of genuine excitement.

_Oh well, Doctor Burr himself will be giving me the pleasure._ _This should be fun.  
_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Giving pleasure. Hehe.
> 
> (I'm so very sorry.)


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before we get to the chapter, I just wanted to say huge *thank you* for over 2000 (!) hits, all the kudos and kind comments. They're making me happier than you can imagine!
> 
> Enjoy!

When the lunchtime came, Alex was still so set on proving both of the doctors wrong that despite consciously sentencing himself to spend more time with Sam and George, he told the nurse he’d like to eat in the social room. He had never done it before, and enthusiastic was the last word to describe his mindset, but he was way too persistent to give up on the idea, and too cocky to admit that Burr might have a point. In Alex’s mind, he was currently on a battle against, pretty much, everyone, and  yielding was not an option, even if it meant he’d have to stand Sam’s and George’s unlimited, senseless babbling for the next hour.

Alex finally made it to the social room, walking with about as much vigor as a death-sentenced prisoner approaching the gallows, and noticed that Sally wasn’t eating with the rest either. He wasn’t exactly surprised, but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t disappointed - he had hoped to find at least a bit more about her, and didn’t want to rely on sources like Sam, who was always saying twice as much as he actually knew. 

He picked the most secluded spot possible, a small table with only two chairs in the corner of the room, and worked on putting on an expression that would discourage any potential company from joining him.

A plate being put in front of him drew Alex out of a blankly-staring-out-the-window session, and he suddenly became aware of what he was about to face after the lunch. Although he was, indeed, very obstinate and sure of his goal, he was also pretty equally fed up with the entire thing, and just overall tired of everything and everyone. All Alex really wanted was to get back to his job. No matter how absurdly it sounded, now that the actual therapy started, his procrastinating stay at the clinic seemed way more draining to him than his _normal,_ hectic lifestyle.

The thought of spending possibly over an hour face to face with Burr was actually making him anxious. While his roommate’s and the _hospital’s_ _king_ ’ _s_ company was awfully annoying, it was very different from Burr - Burr was _intrusively_ intelligent, knew how and where to bite, and the fact that Alex could tell that after less than 15 minutes of conversation in total, was speaking for itself.

Before he could realize, he started playing with the food instead of eating it, separating the vegetables and chicken from the rice and putting them on different sides of the plate for no real reason. It took him a while, so when he was about to finally lift the fork up to his mouth and not just pointlessly dab the contents of his meal with it, everyone else had already finished, and Alex could feel a pair of eyes shamelessly watching him.

He wanted to say something, but Sam, unfortunately, was faster than him.

“SARAH!” he screamed, summoning the blond nurse, “ALEXANDER IS NOT EATING!”

Alex closed his eyes shut and took a breath through his nose as he felt the blood rush straight to his head.

What happened next was a blur.

He was so blinded by the anger that he couldn’t even exactly tell what he was doing, but two things were for sure - first, he hit his fist against the table. Second, he did the same but this time aimed for Seabury’s face.

When he calmed down enough to at least see clearly, 3 people were dragging him away from his roommate.

_Not good._

Alex looked down at his hand and saw blood covering his knuckles. Then he looked back up to find Sam, and quickly made out where it came from.

The guy was lying on the floor, curled in evident pain, his nose smashed so uglily that Alex himself cringed at the sight. Effectively punching people had been one of the useful skills he had learnt in the military, and as it seemed, could still execute quite well.

In a matter of seconds, he was dragged further, out of the social room, and he wasn’t even trying to fight or resist. Sarah exchanged a look with Bellamy, who had been involved in separating Alex from Sam.

“Just lead him straight to Burr,” the doctor answered an unspoken question, causing a shadow of fear to run through her face. It made Alexander’s stomach turn. “He’s done with the rage, you’ll be fine”

Apologizing was pretty pointless and he knew that, but he still decided to try as soon as Bellamy was gone.

“Look I’m really really sorry, please don’t be scared of me, I’d neve-”

“Don’t apologize to me, apologize to that poor guy,” she snapped and gave him an ice-cold look, silencing him for the rest of their way to doctor Burr’s office.

 

Aaron Burr was sitting at his desk, swimming in papers and talking on a phone that he didn’t even bother putting down when Alex entered, just motioning for him to take a seat and continuing his conversation, flitting from typing something on his laptop to writing in a notebook. Left with a plenty of time, Alex began to study his surroundings, trying to keep himself occupied and pushing away the thoughts of what he had just done and the upcoming consequences.

He scanned for any personal stuff, something that would tell him more about the doctor, something that he could maybe _use_ one day, if he needed. And if he was still going to even stay at the clinic, after the incident with Seabury.

There were exactly two framed pictures in the entire room, weirdly arranged on a nearly empty whatnot placed next to an armchair. Alex wondered if they had been moved there from the desk to make place for all the paperwork. That would explain the awkward setting.

A black-and-white one, seemingly quite old, of a standing, smiling couple lovingly holding hands and looking at each other. _Parents_ , Alex thought, and wondered why it was a photography from the past, instead of a more recent one. On a side note, he remarked that Burr certainly took after his father.

The second one was a picture of an afro-american woman and young girl, approximately 4, hugging, both of them laughing at the camera. Judging by the ring on Burr’s finger that Alex had noticed earlier, it was his wife and daughter.

“Ahem.”

Only when Burr loudly cleared his throat did Alexander notice that the sounds of the phone conversation had long gone quiet. He turned to look at the doctor.

“Mr. Hamilton,” was all the man said and just stared at him for a minute, his expression an image of _too tired to be angry_.

Alex tried to recall if his bloody eyes and dark circles had already been showing the day before, but he hadn’t been observant enough after waking up. However, they were so prominent that he highly doubted they were an effect of just one sleepless night, at least based on his own experience with signs of exhaustion.

Still staying silent, Burr covered his face with his hands, sighed loudly and reached for a box of tissues, handing one to Alex, who raised his eyebrows in response, not sure what the gesture was supposed to mean.

“Your hand.”

_Oh_ Alex remembered that he still had the obvious, red evidence of the short loss of control covering him and accepted the tissue.

When he was done clearing himself up, Burr still didn’t say a word and just continued staring at him, starting to seriously get on his nerves. After few minutes that seemed to drag into eternity, Alexander finally lost it.

“Look, let’s just get over with it already. Tell me how much I’ve fucked up, call Washington, punish me however you want-”

“Can I call you Alexander?” Burr asked out of the blue, cutting Alex off.

“No, no you can’t, but you’re still going to, aren’t you?” he quickly answered in his typical, sarcastic manner, despite initial confusion with the randomness of the question.

“Then why would I ask you in the frist place, _Mr. Hamilton_?”

Alex was clueless of what the doctor was attempting to do, but it was pissing him off more and more with every second.

“I have no idea what you’re trying to achieve, but this conversation seems quite pointless to me,” he said in as calm of a tone as he could manage, not wanting the situation to get any worse.

“See, I could say the same thing, expect I’d replace _this conversation_ with _your stay here_ ”

“You aren’t the only one.”

“Oh really? Then could you, please, tell me, what even were your initial expectations? Did you really think that you would just breeze through effortlessly, and we would fix all your problems with a touch of magical wand?” Burr’s words were meant to sting, yet he was still speaking with such a composure that Alex had trouble believing he was a human.

“What are you even thinking about right now, Hamilton? What to do next to make sure we dream about nothing but getting rid of you?”

“Actually, I was thinking that if I were in your spot, I’d be exploding with anger,” he, for some reason, decided to go with honesty.

“Well that’s probably why you’re not in my spot, Hamilton. Still haven’t answered my questions, though.”

Silence fell over the room again, but in that case, it wasn’t due to Burr. It was because Alex, for the first time, really considered the doctor’s words, and was failing miserably to form a proper answer.

_What did I expect?_

“You don’t have any bright response? Now that’s a first,” Burr snorted sarcastically, but his expression remained emotionless. “We have a new patient checking in on Saturday. You’re going to be moved in with him. Till then, you’ll be staying alone in a different room. I am not going to call Mr. Washington, as you suggested, because it would be unethical for me as a doctor to share this kind of confidential information with someone who isn’t in any legal way connected with you.”

A weight shifted off Alex’s chest. Not only wasn’t he entirely screwed, he was also freed of Sam’s company. _A win-win, really._

“For this week, you are going to take a break from the group therapy,” _It only gets better._ “But don’t worry, you won’t be bored. I just rearranged my schedule to fit two hours of individual sessions with you every day. We are finished for now, please start packing so you’re ready to move before Sam gets back. For our meeting tomorrow, I’d like you to think about the answers to what I asked you.”

Alexander let his words sink in, wondering if he had just jumped out of the frying pan into the fire.

“Oh, and you are, most certainly, going to apologize to Seabury and pray that he doesn’t sue you.” Alex cringed. “You can leave now.”

He didn’t dare saying anything, just stood up and left, tossing the bloody tissue into the bin on his way out and closing the door behind him.

 

Unlike ever before during his stay, he was truly questioning his own standpoint, something he hardly ever did in his entire life. Wrestling with thoughts, Alex hastily threw everything into his bag, just wanting to lie down and be able to reconsider everything with a clearer mind. He informed the nurse that he was ready, and she showed him a room on the same floor, not very far from his previous one, where he and the new patient were supposed to stay.

Once the nurse was gone, Alex carelessly dropped the bag on one of the beds and sat on the edge of the another, face hidden behind his hands.

_I really shouldn’t have hit him_ he thought to himself, rubbing his forehead. He saw the incident as the source of his current doubts, and doggedly refused to admit that Burr’s questions would still be accurate even if he hadn’t lost his control.

It was still quite early, and even despite waking up before 8 and all the fuss he had been through, Alex wasn’t feeling tired at all. The more he was reflecting on the events of that day, the more pangs of conscience he was experiencing, and it didn’t take him long to change his mind about _just wanting to reconsider everything_. Sitting and continuing to doubt himself quickly turned into the very last thing he felt like doing, so he decided on having a shower to kill the time, and even ended up shaving and drying his hair to keep himself occupied.

When Alex finally left the bathroom, he noticed that his dinner had been brought. He looked at it and battled with himself - he wasn’t hungry, not at all. Just the thought of eating alone was making him sick. But, on the other hand, he still had something to prove. He picked up the plate, sat on the bed and began to cut the salmon fillet into smaller pieces, trying to delay eating it as much as he could.

The meal took him a good hour and half to finish, and he even went as far as returning the plate to the kitchen himself, in order to find something to refrain from thinking.

But once he was back in his room, and there was completely nothing else to distract him, Alex couldn’t help but lie down and try to form in his mind what he’d tell Burr, who for sure wasn’t going to give up on the painfully burdensome topic.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To start with, I'd like to thank you for all the comments and questions about update - I'm very sorry for the delay! I'm also sorry if this chapter is messier than the rest - I've had an awful week and getting it done took way more effort than usually. 
> 
> In today's chapter: Alex still being less responsible than an average 6yo.
> 
> But things are about to change very soon! *evil smile*

New day began in a much nicer, gentler way, and Alex was trying his best to appreciate that. There was no screaming Sam, no need to get out of bed before 10 and high chances that he wouldn’t have to go through the pain of meeting Bellamy. Just looking at the guy was irritating, not to mention talking with him, therefore a break from the group therapy should certainly improve Alex’s mood.

But he couldn’t just ignore the fact that from the very second he woke up, his mind got absorbed in countless _what’s_ and _if’s_ caused by his inevitable, _looming_ session with Burr, and the struggle of over thinking it beyond limits was outweighing the relief caused by not having to attend the group meeting.

Chewing on a toast that he ended picking up out of a boredom more than hunger, Alex tried to rationally consider his options and possible scenarios. Yes, he could do exactly what Burr wanted him to. He could just be honest, genuinely answer all the questions and follow instructions. But he didn’t want to. He had lost some of his spark and energy, had changed since he had entered the clinic, but he still wasn’t done. _Not yet._

He had always been choosing people that he let into his mind and heart very carefully, and that wasn’t going to change. There was no way that, out of the blue, he would just open up to a complete stranger. Especially when the stranger was Burr. He wasn’t going to throw away the remainings of his dignity, what he still had left of his former self, even if that meant he would have to face way more hurdles than he had been prepared for.

Alex pushed all the doubt aside, somehow finding determination he hadn’t thought he had, and decided that his goal was not to just simply get out. It was to get out on _his terms._

  
“Good afternoon, Hamilton.”

“Afternoon,” Alex responded with a forced, polite smile, trying to mirror Burr’s expression. Just walking into the doctor’s office had been enough to frustrate him, and he was already regretting his decision to give it a shot.

“You can take a sit,” Burr pointed to a big, black leather chair that looked exactly like all the psychiatrists’ chairs in the movies, and for a moment Alex thought he was joking.

“Are you serious? You expect me to lie there, close my eyes, and talk about my difficult childhood, as if we were in a goddamn reality show?”

“No, that’s not what I want to talk with you about, at least for now,” Burr seemed unimpressed by Alex’s sassing. “If this isn’t comfortable for you, you can just take the armchair, that’s fine with me. I don’t want to go on some ridiculous battle with you, Hamilton. I want to help you.”

“Oh I’m sure you do” Alex hissed, moving to take a sit.

The doctor sighed, moved his own chair and picked up a notepad and a pen.

“So, have you thought about my questions?”

Alex glued his eyes to his shoes and didn’t respond at all, hoping to get Burr to lose his patience as fast as possible and cut the meeting short.

“Okay. I guess I’ll start with what I expect from you, then. Do you have any guesses?”

“Hm, you want to me to cry about my feelings and realize that I fucked my life up by myself?” Alex let out a sarcastic snort. “Well, the first isn’t going to happen, and the second I’m already aware of. The real question is, why are we both wasting our time?”

“Hamilton, I do not expect you to suddenly take a leap into unknown and share all your feelings and thoughts with me during our first meeting. And I certainly don’t want you to make any judgments or try to interpret anything by yourself,” Burr’s eyes suddenly met his, and something in the way the doctor was looking at him caused a shiver to run down Alex’s spine. “All I want is for you to try to gradually get out of your comfort zone, one step at a time, and to slowly build enough trust between us for me to be able to help you. Doesn’t that sound fair?”

The problem was, Alex didn’t want it to sound fair. Burr had a point, and a surprisingly rational approach, but Alex’s stubbornness was preventing him from admitting that. If he changed his mind, it would mean he gave up and let Burr win.

The doctor seemingly lost his hope to get any answers out of Alexander, because after a short moment of silence he just went on.

“I would like you to think of one thing that you want and care about the most. I assume you are not going to share, and I’m not going to force you.”

Involuntarily, Alex’s mind got taken over by the images of his children, and as he realized how much he actually missed them, he couldn’t stop his vision from becoming blurry with tears. Hoping that Burr wouldn’t notice the effect his words had on him, he quickly got back to examining his shoes, pushing the unwelcome wave of feelings away.

“Now, is that the motivation behind you wanting to get out of here so badly?”

Alex remained silent, feeling more and more uncomfortable with every second, trying to keep Burr’s questions from getting to him.

“If that’s the case, I’d like you to realize that whatever you thought of, in your current state, you aren’t in any shape to properly take care of that. You need to _fix_ yourself before you can safely interact with your environment.”

_Bullshit,_ Alex thought, as he remembered the last time he had visited his kids. He had been doing _perfectly fine_.

  
As the therapy session went on, Alexander just kept battling not to give the doctor’s assumptions and theories any serious thoughts. He knew better than that, he didn’t need his help, he didn’t need _any_ help at all. He had handled so many breakdowns, crises, _catastrophes_ in his life all by himself, he could solve this one too.

  
“I hope to see you tomorrow,” Alex’s attention suddenly got back to the session, after what felt like an eternity of studying his shoes, and he nearly jumped out of the chair the moment he realized that Burr was done with his monologue. He had stopped listening to him a long while ago, absorbed by convincing himself that he was more than capable of fixing everything on his own. When he was hastily getting up and making to leave, feeling beyond eager to finally be able to get out of the man’s office, Alex heard the doctor add “We’re not going to drop the Seabury issue. I just want to give it more time,” making him wonder if Burr was planning on ending every single session by reminding him about his quarrel with Sam.

  
However, they did not meet the following day. When Alex was nibbling at his lunch, a nurse came to inform that doctor Burr had to leave unexpectedly, and he was very close to saying a thankful prayer for the news. The lack of any _entertainment_ was, again, starting to kind of get on his nerves, but still wasn’t even nearly as annoying as the therapy.

When he had run out of all the possible, small tasks to do, like carefully folding all of his clothes and placing them in the closet, or neatly making the bed, he ended up going for a walk in the hospital’s garden, even though the warm weather had been replaced with colder, much more autumn resembling conditions over the past few days.

The refreshing smell of rainy air that hit Alexander the moment he walked through the doors cleared his mind better than anything, and that was exactly what he needed the most at that moment. Before he knew, two hours had passed, and when he was about to start his third loop around the park, a nurse ran out of the building to stop him.

“Mr. Hamilton! What are you doing out there? You’re soaked!”

Alex, drawn out of his contemplation, looked down at his clothes and realized that he was, indeed, thoroughly wet and had gotten so lost in his thoughts that he hadn’t even noticed getting drenched.

He quickly got back to the room, took off his dripping clothes and went for a hot shower straight away, but he could still sense the characteristic feeling of sickness building in his bones.

But despite that, Alex didn’t regret his walk. It had given him a moment to focus and get a fresh look at everything, allowed him to plan how to solve the situation he was in.

One of the nurses made him hot, raspberry tea when he was done drying his hair, and he accepted it gratefully, hiding under a blanket. It brought back memories of the few times he had been staying at home, sick. Eliza would force him not to go to work, and then take care of him as best as she could, cooking him soups and making tea with honey, and the kids would give him drawings to make him feel better.

Alex didn’t even know when closed his eyes and let the memories overtake him. Giving into the comfort of his bed, he fell asleep in a matter of minutes.

  
When he woke up, it was clear that his luck didn’t last long. Not only was he feeling as if a car had run over him, but along with his breakfast the nurse brought news that doctor Burr was very much present that day, and would like to see him earlier than usually.

Most of the motivation he had found during his walk was now suppressed by the overall weakness that the illness was carrying with it, making him reconsider if it really had been worth it.

  
On the way to the office, he became even more aware of the results of his recklessness the day before, his head starting to pound with pain. The session was going to be _great_.

“Hello Hamilton,” Burr said and looked him up and down. “Are you okay?”

Alex had to stop himself from laughing.

“Do I look like I’m okay?” he snapped, bit more angrily than intended.

“I’ll ask the nurses to bring you some meds for the cold,” _oh, so someone already told him._ “Are you capable of continuing, or do you want to reschedule today’s session?” Burr asked, and Alex went silent for a minute, weighing up his options.

The decision wasn’t as easy as it could seem - yes, he’d love to just go back to bed for the rest of the day and not have to put up with Burr’s talking. But doing that would be like admitting he hadn’t been right. And he didn’t want to do that.

“No,” he managed after a while, and cleared his sore throat before continuing in an attempt to make his voice less hoarse. “I’m fine to continue,” he frowned a bit as the words left his mouth and moved to take a sit before Burr had a chance to ask him to.

“So, today I’d like to discuss what you felt on the day you entered the clinic,” the doctor started as soon as Alex settled down on the armchair, “what emotions was it associated with-”

“Instant regret,” he cut Burr off.

“Alexander, I’d really appreciate if you could stop acting like the entire world is against you. All I’m trying to do is get to you and-”

“Then stop trying.”

Burr sighed and looked Alex in the eye.

“I don’t know what kind of plan you have, but if you want to make me lose my patience, it’s not going to happen.” _We’ll see._ “I am not letting you out if you carry on acting like this, and I’m more than willing to wait for you to realize how pointless it is. We have all the time in the world. It only depends on you how much you are going to waste being stubborn.”

“So you’re going to what, stare at me for 2 hours in silence?”

“If that’s what you want to do, then yes.”

And they did. Burr checked his phone a couple of times, but for most of the meeting, his eyes stayed locked with Alexander’s, the room completely quiet except for the ticking of the clock.

  
“I just wanted to remind you that your new roommate is checking in tomorrow,” Burr said once their session was finally over, “and I’d like to meet at the same time as today, so I can introduce you.”

Alex had forgotten about that, but at that very moment, he couldn’t care less. All he wanted to do was get back to his bed and sleep through the illness.

Once he was in his room, he took the aspirin that was waiting for him on the bedside table, washed it down with some tea, and ignored the plate with the lunch, as swallowing was way too painful and he had no appetite whatsoever.

  
The sleep and meds must have worked, because when he woke up on Saturday, he was feeling slightly better. He even ate almost all of his breakfast, the hunger caused by skipping two of yesterday’s meals finally getting to him.

Alex expected his next therapy session  to go in a similar way as the last one, as his attitude remained painfully irreverent, and when the meeting time approached, he headed to the office even more sure of himself than before.

  
But when he opened the door and his eyes travelled to the person standing next to Burr’s desk, he could swear his heart stopped.

“Morning, Hamilton, this is Anthony-” was all Burr managed to say before Alex ran out of the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *evil smile intesifies*
> 
> :)


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am soooo excited to hear what you think about this chapter! We're finally moving on with the plot yay!
> 
> Enjoy!

He made it as far as the staircase, pressing his back to the wall and sliding down to floor the moment he was sure nobody could see him, hyperventilating.

“Jesus Christ, Hamilton, what’s wrong this time?” he heard Burr’s voice coming from the corridor, the man must have followed him out. “Stop acting like a-” the doctor cut his sentence half-way the second he saw Alex, his expression changing momentarily.

He hurriedly approached him and kneeled next to him.

“Hamilton? Take deep breaths, okay?”

Alex felt a hand on his shoulder, as he tried to hold his knees even tighter to his chest, mustering the very remains of self-control into focusing on following doctor’s advice and keeping his hammering heart from jumping out of his chest.

He didn’t know how long it took, but after a while, when the first wave of panic was over, he suddenly became extremely nauseous. He attempted to stand up, and only then realized that Burr had been holding him the entire time.

“Stay down”, the man said while carefully unwrapping his arms, “I’m going to get you some water, is that fine?”

A nod was all Alex could manage, hoping that Burr wouldn’t bring anyone else with him - he really didn’t want any nurses or, even worse, Bellamy, to witness his breakdown. Waiting, he cleared his face from tears he couldn’t stop from falling with the hem of his shirt, and focused back on taking deep breaths.

Burr was back very quickly, clearly not wanting to leave him alone for any longer than necessary, and to Alex’s relief, nobody was following him. The man once again kneeled on his side, handling him the cup.

“There, small sips,” the doctor said, while carefully assisting his shaking hands.

After few more minutes of just sitting and breathing, Alex felt his heart rate finally slowing down. He closed his eyes and counted to thousand, and once he opened them, it was to Burr questioningly staring at him with concern.

“I… I-” he desperately tried to form an explanation, but the words just didn’t seem to be there.

“Shh, it’s okay, Hamilton. You don’t have to speak. Do you want to go back to your room?”

At that, the shortly gone panic started to build in Alexander again.

“Is... is he going to be there?” he asked with great difficulty, voice quavering.

“Anthony? Yes, I told him to go to unpack-” Burr stopped when he saw the expression of sheer terror his answer caused to show on Alex’s face. “Do you want to go to my office instead?” he added quickly, before the anxiety could deepen, getting a slow nod in return.

He helped Alex up and then held him on the way to the office, assuring that his unsteady walk wouldn’t cause him to fall.

This time, as soon as they got there, Alex went straight for the _psychiatric chair_ that he had refused so strongly to use before, and lay down, too exhausted from the emotional outburst to be sitting. He noticed Burr dive into a closet and pull out a blanket, offering it to him.  Alexander accepted it gratefully and used all of the energy he had left to wrap himself up, before passing out.

 

When he opened his eyes, he still wasn’t exactly feeling like his normal self, but the nap had definitely helped him with regaining some composure, as his heart was no longer crazily pounding. He first glanced at the clock to check how long he had been asleep, and then shifted his gaze to Burr, to see the doctor working on his laptop, likely unaware that Alex was awake.

He wondered if he ought to say something, but decided on staying quiet, dragging the unavoidable conversation away for as long as he could, and just listened to the sound of Burr typing, staring at the wall.

 

“Are you any better?”

Alex jumped a little when after few minutes the doctor noticed he was conscious again, and just gave a small nod.

“Can I get you need anything?”

He shook his head and swallowed loudly, shutting his eyes, trying to fight back an unforeseen return of all the emotions.

He heard some movement and opened his eyes back, just in time to watch Burr approach him, moving a chair on his way in order to sit next to him. Alex was slightly surprised when he felt the man’s hand on his arm for the second time that day, but stopped himself from instinctively flinching away, because he realized that, for some reason, it was giving him a strange sense of security, and he really needed anything that could help him stay collected.

“Okay, Hamilton,” the doctor started in a quiet voice after a while, “I know talking is probably the last thing you’d like to do now, and I really don’t want to force you to,” his tone was extremely calm, filled with something Alex never heard in it before and couldn’t quite name, but it reminded him of the way Eliza used to speak to their kids. Normally, he’d be offended by it, but now, he was finding it somehow comforting. “The situation is quite hard, though. You cannot stay in my office forever, and putting you back into the room with Sam is not an option. I have to know what caused you to react the way you did in order to help you.”

Burr patiently waited for Alex to process his words, closely watching for any reactions. Eventually, he got another weak nod as a response, and took it as a permission to go further.

“Can you, at least partly, explain it to me?” Alexander squeezed his lips together in a tight line at the question, visibly very uncomfortable with it, causing the doctor to quickly add “you don’t have to go into any detail, just give me a very general outline, so I can base on something? Does that sound any better?”

“I can’t.”

“You can’t talk about it or-”

“I can’t summarize or simplify it,” words were slowly coming back to Alex, and even despite his still-present anxiousness, he struggled less to form sentences. “There’s just… so much to it. So much more than I’d like to admit,” he said, his gaze dropping to the floor.

“Just the fact that you realized and shared that is a huge step forward, Hamilton, and I’m impressed by it.”

Alex chuckled and put on a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. _Maybe Burr actually wasn’t that bad._

“It’s a long story.”

“If you are willing to tell it, then I’m here to listen, no matter how long it takes.”

“Burr, it’s Saturday. You should go home to your family, not listen to my pathetic experiences,” Alex said, and he genuinely meant it. Just few hours earlier he’d use that as an excuse to postpone the conversation, but now, he suggested it out of the sympathy to the doctor that he had somehow gained. He realized that Burr could perceive it that way as he noticed a shadow run across the man’s face, so he added “I meant that. Don’t stay late because of-”

“Don’t worry about me,” the doctor cut him off in a soft voice, and gave him a small, bittersweet smile.

Alex suddenly felt a spark of guilt in his heart. All the time he had been trying to take his misery and frustration out on the man, while Burr had been nothing but polite and trying to do his job. With every second, he was becoming more and more ashamed of himself, thinking about all his childish backtalk and the pitiful attempts at threatening.

“Hamilton?”

“Sorry, I…” he found himself missing words again, failing to get an apology for his earlier behavior out just yet.

“Don’t apologize, it’s understandable and perfectly fine that you struggle to describe something. Take your time.”

And Alex did. When he finally collected his thoughts, planned everything out in his mind, and was about to start, it was as if a knot had formed in his throat, keeping him from speaking it out loud. But he took a deep breath, swallowed, and avoiding eye-contact, began his story in a quiet, shaky voice.

“I met John when I was still a teen, I was at a foster care, he was a rich kid from a _good family_ ,” he smiled at the memory. John hated his father so much, and he initially wanted to hang out with Alex just to get on the man’s nerves. “Despite all the differences, we became friends, not really close ones, but we were spending considerable amounts of time together and found ourselves enjoying each other’s company. Long story short, we somehow ended up with the idea of going to military together. For me, it was a chance to start a new life, undefined by my past. For him, it was a way of demonstrating his self-reliance and rebellious approach to the lifestyle he was expected to lead. That was where we got..." Alex hesitated for a second, "...very close. I had never had a true friend before, someone who would listen to my rambling and genuinely care about my feelings and opinions.” He paused for a while, letting his mind wander around all the “what’s” and “if’s” that he had considered way too many times. _If I hadn’t convinced him to go with me, if he just became an artist or-_ ”

“You wouldn’t have gained your first true friend,” Burr commented, and only then did Alex realize he had said all of that out loud.

His face fell, a single tear forming in the corner of his eye. Years had passed, he had cried thousands of times over this, and yet it still hurt the exact same way when he thought about it. The exact same way as when the letter had arrived.

“Then John would still be alive,” he managed and let the tear fall down his cheek.

Burr cocked his head, trying to meet Alex’s eyes, and gave him a reassuring pat, not saying anything, giving him time to collect himself.

“We both already had families, I just got back home from Iraq and was waiting for news from him, it was supposed to be our very last time” he couldn’t help but start shaking a bit, as the memories started to become more and more clear in his head, like a movie he’d wish he had never seen. “My wife, Eliza, knocked on my office’s door. I told her to wait, but then she said it was about John…” Another tear dripped down his face, leaving a wet trace. “A letter, such a _John’s father_ way of doing it…” he let out a chuckle that turned into more of a sob.

“I know it seems just like empty words, but I’m very sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you,” Alex said while wiping the tears with the back of his hand, relief of finally being over with the most emotional part of the story slowly washing over him. “I’m impressed that you still haven’t asked me what the hell does that have to do with that new patient.”

“I trust that you wouldn’t share such a personal thing if it wasn’t closely connected with what happened this morning.”  
  
“See, that guy, Anthony,” Alex took a deep breath, aware of how absurd what he was about to say would sound, and spit the words out as fast as he could, “he looks like John. Not just similar, he looks exactly like him. It was as if a ghost was standing before me, and if I hadn't seen John dead, if I hadn’t carried the coffin myself I, I-” he stumbled, and never got to finish, collapsing under the overwhelming weight of emotions, breaking into a full-blown cry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ayyy! Bit short, I know, but look at all the feels! Poor baby.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to thank you for the lovely comments and 200 (!!!!) kudos. I'm so greatfull for all of them, and you can't even imagine how happy they're making me! 
> 
> This chapter is basically an intro to the proper therapy. 
> 
> Enjoy!

When Alex woke up the next morning, he didn’t even need to open his eyes to sense that something was wrong. He wasn’t in his room, and judging by the pain in his back, most certainly not in a bed. He tried to recall what could be the reason, what had happened the night before, but his mind seemed blank. The aftermath of all the suppressed emotions finally erupting felt like a very bad hangover, the one that comes after drinking yourself unconscious. 

The moment he lifted his swollen lids, though, everything, including the head resting on his arm, started to make sense. He remembered the panic attack, the talk he had shared with Burr, and what must have been at least two hours of crying while the doctor had been trying to comfort him. 

He didn’t know if he should move, or try to wake Burr up. He felt really bad for the man, who had fallen asleep sitting, bent in a position that was painful to even watch. Alex himself was covered in blanket, half-lying in the big, fairly comfortable leather chair, and he still knew he would be sore for the next few days. 

He let out a silent sigh of relief when Burr saved him from making the decision, waking up on his own maybe a minute later.

The doctor nearly jumped when he realized what had been his pillow through the night, and Alex couldn’t help but chuckle at it. The silent giggle soon turned into a full, proper laugh at the doctor’s poor, sluggish attempts on getting up.

“That’s not funny at all, Hamilton. Not. Funny.”  Burr was trying his best to sound serious, but failed to hide a small smile when he eventually made it up with a loud crack of his bones. 

“I think you drooled on me a bit,” Alex said, examining his shirt.

“No, no I didn’t.”

“You so did,” he pointed to a wet patch on his chest, causing Burr to finally let out a snort too.

“God I’m way too old for this,” the doctor groaned while trying stretch his back, causing it to crack once again.

Even though Burr was still smiling, for Alex the light mood faded away all too soon, replaced by a wave of guilt and embarrassment that hit him with surprising force, making him visibly frown.

“Look, I’m sorry. I really am. For everything. For forcing you to witness my breakdown, for keeping you here, and for making you fall asleep like this. Your wife is probably extremely worried, I-”

“Hamilton, stop, please. It’s fine. I’ve told you before, there’s no need to worry about me,” his expression turned from amused into concerned, “I know it will sound very cruel, but I’m glad it all happened. Maybe I’m jumping into conclusions, but it seems like that was the final push you needed to let someone help you. Am I wrong?” he asked, looking Alex deep in the eyes.

The only response he was capable of giving was a small shake of his head, while cowardly dropping his gaze. Burr’s stare was, once again, giving him shivers, and, to his frustration, he couldn’t explain why. Especially now that he decided on a ceasefire, now, after they had gotten closer, after he had let Burr into his mind - there was no logical explanation of his reaction, yet he couldn’t control it.   
  
"So, what now? I've cried my eyes out into your shirt, you've drooled on me, can we consider each other _besties_?" Alex cringed internally at how obvious his try to jokingly switch the topic was, but, to his surprise and huge relief, it worked, bringing the smile back on the doctor's face. He hardly doubted Burr didn't notice his true intentions - he just, most likely, decided to ignore them, which Alex was really grateful for.  
  
"Wow, not that fast," Burr raised his hands, palms open, "there's more to it than just exchanging body fluids, Hamilton," the man said, and Alex couldn't help but mirror his smile. Unfortunately, the expression didn't last long on his face, as the doctor soon added "now, for serious," and he realized the change of the topic had been a very short-lived success. "I'm going to get you some breakfast, and then we'll continue the yesterday's conversation, is that okay with you?"   
  
Another look. Another shiver. _It's getting annoying,_ he thought as he nodded in response.   
  
Watching Burr leave, he wondered if the doctor had even had a chance to call his family and tell that he's staying at work. Eliza used to be mad at him for days every time he had forgotten to leave some notice in advance. And he couldn't stand her being upset, so he had quickly learnt to always call home, even if he had just been going to be an hour late. Was Burr's wife like that too? Would he have to explain what happened, to justify himself and calm her down?  
  
Alex furrowed his brows, pushing the thoughts away. Why was he suddenly caring so much about that?  It was none of his business, and it seemed like Burr wasn’t very eager to talk about his family.

The doctor’s return saved him from diving deeper into the issue. He accepted the plate of toasts with some eggs, and noticed that Burr brought one for himself too. The question if he was planning on going home at all that day played at the end of Alex’s tongue, but he dismissed it, realizing that asking would be pointless. All Burr had ever done when he had tried to mention something private had been dodging the topic. The chances that this time he would get an actual answer were quite low.

Alexander eyed the plate, feeling a lump form in his throat, and involuntarily squeezed his lips in a tight line. 

“Hamilton? Is something wrong?” Burr asked from his desk when he caught his reaction.

For a few seconds, he considered if he should tell the truth or just make up some evasive answer. Burr, after all, wasn’t being completely open with him either. He could follow his example. On the other hand, he was the patient here - and now, after he had decided he wanted to take this therapy seriously, lying simply felt like a wrong thing to do.

He swallowed loudly, took a deep breath through his nose and made up his mind. If he was determined on getting better, he had to be honest. 

“I just really don’t want to eat, the very thought of it is making me sick. This often happens to me when I’m nervous, or busy, or upset,” he wasn’t exactly happy with how artificially his confession sounded, but at the same time, felt better after finally getting it out.

“That's what I suspected. Has it always been that way?”

The question caught Alex off-guard. He tried to reach back into his memory, to recall when had the connection between his mood and relation to food formed. 

“As a kid, that wasn’t an option. I was happy when I had anything to eat,” Alex thought out loud, and hesitated for a moment, realizing he was doing the exact thing he had promised to himself he would never do. Sitting in a  _ psychiatric chair,  _ talking about his childhood.  _ Oh well _ . 

“I think it began somewhere during my time in military, when I switched to doing the paperwork, I’d get too occupied with my tasks, would skip meals to save every precious minute.” 

“But that’s workaholism. How about the emotional trigger? Can you think of any particular event, something that caused you to develop it?”

“John’s death” Alex answered shortly, after a minute of silent consideration. 

“Thank you,” Burr said while he placed his plate to the side and noted something down in his notebook. “Now, I’m not going to force you to eat,” his voice became softer, “but I’d encourage you to try. Not the entire thing, just few bites,” Alexander cringed at that, but before he could open his mouth to say something, the doctor added “I know you are aware of that, and that it’s not pleasant or easy to be told things like that, things that seem obvious. But sometimes you need another person to say them, to watch over you and support you.”

Alexander just bit his tongue and nodded, picking up one of the toasts. Maybe there was something in what Burr had said. He couldn't help but think about Eliza. She had been the one to make sure he hadn’t fully lost himself, hadn’t totally forgotten about all the most basic, little things that had been too insignificant for him to care about. But letting Eliza be like that had felt different,  _ natural.  _ He wasn’t sure if he was ready to let anyone else that close, let alone  _ a doctor,  _ someone who was being paid to listen, who wasn’t even a friend.

For a few minutes, the room was completely silent, save for the sounds of both of them eating, Burr almost hurriedly, as if he was starving, making Alex, who was reluctantly and slowly chewing on every single piece, wonder if it was the man’s first proper meal in a longer while. He was about to ask, out of the curiosity, but the ring of the phone prevented him from it.

“Yes?” the doctor picked it up and his face dropped immediately when he heard the caller’s voice. “Theo, how many times do I have to ask you not to use my office’s line? I’ll call you back later, okay?” he said, and quickly hung up, turning to Alex. “I’m sorry. I try to avoid private phone calls at work.”

“No need to be. Theo is a short from…?” he tried to get some more personal info from Burr once again, not really expecting an answer.

“Theodosia,” Burr replied, to Alex’s surprise, but switched the subjects before he could come up with more questions, “I still haven’t asked, but do you want to have a regular therapy session today? It’s perfectly fine if you don’t, the past 24 hours had been quite emotionally exhausting. But if you’d like to stay and talk, you’re more than welcome to.”

_ Stay _ . So what was the other option? Would Burr tell him to leave after they finish their breakfast, to go to his room like nothing had ever happened? If that was the case, he’d much rather tell the doctor every single detail about his life than go back there. 

“Have you come up with a solution to the issue with the rooms yet?”

“Oh, yes, don’t worry about that. I’ve decided to put you in a single room, at least for the time being,” he ensured, making Alex visibly relax. ”So, what about the session?” the doctor smiled a bit, as if he had sensed before that the answer would depend on whether or not Alex would have to meet Anthony again.  
  
“...well, actually, I’d like to stay,” the words left Alexander’s mouth before he could give them a second thought, and he had to admit that they surprised  _ him _ probably just as much as the doctor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit shorter again, sorry /o\  
> Sometimes I feel like I'm dragging the plot too much, but I also don't want to rush and describe every single thing that I find important - what do you think? Would you prefer me to update more often, and keep all the details, or maybe write longer, more general chapters?  
> Let me know what's your opinion!


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy!

“Are you sure about this?” Burr asked, still clearly not quite believing in what he had just heard.

“Yes, yes I am,” Alex assured in response, forcing himself to meet the doctor’s eyes in an attempt to seem more convinced and sure of his answer.

The man just shook his head and smiled.

“You’re full of surprises, Hamilton.”

“Is that bad?” he replied automatically, before he could stop himself, and frowned a bit, finding his question rather stupid and uncalled-for.

“Depends on the situation and the nature of the surprises, if you ask me,” Burr shrugged his shoulders, and to Alexander’s relief, changed the subjects. “Do you want a short break before we start?” he asked, and Alex was about refuse when he added, “Keep in mind that your shirt is still kind of wet with my saliva.”

Alexander almost laughed when he got the hint and realized how ironic the situation was. He was trying to relearn to be responsible and look after himself, and got so caught in it that he wanted to start the process in yesterday’s clothes, without taking a shower or even brushing his teeth. _Such a great beginning, failing from the very first moment._

“Yeah, I think we both could use it.”

“Great,” he picked up the phone, “Sally, could you please come to my office? I’ll need you to show Mr. Hamilton his new room,” Alex frowned when he heard the name, but quickly hid his expression when the doctor turned to look at him. “Just come back whenever you’re ready, I’ll be waiting here,” Burr gave him one last smile before opening his laptop and starting to type.

 

Even with all the doctor’s assurances, Alexander still found himself getting more and more anxious with every step towards his new room, nervous that somehow, his _new roommate_ would be there, or he would walk into _him_ on the corridor, or he would have to go back to the old room to pick up his things and meet _him..._ Although, as he was grudgingly following Sally and battling with his thoughts, an aspect that he hadn’t cared about before managed to sneak into his mind.

_But what about Anthony’s feelings?_

After all, the poor guy had done absolutely nothing on purpose, just happened to look a certain way. Alexander felt ashamed. He had probably terrified him, caused him even more additional stress to what entering the clinic had already been carrying with it. What was he struggling with? Could this incident make him even worse, affect his recovery? The guilt just kept growing in him the more he considered it, becoming almost unbearable.

When they reached their destination, Alex noticed that the new room was, in fact, still on the 3rd floor, but thankfully it was situated on the other end of the corridor. He thanked Sally, forcing a fake-polite smile, and walked in to see his bags already placed next to the bed. Normally, he’d get pissed that someone had done this without his permission, but in this case, he was rather grateful for it.

It took him slightly longer to find something to wear due to the unfamiliar arrangement of his belongings, but when he eventually did, he just headed straight for a quick shower. Although Alex was aware of the stubble that he should probably get rid of, he wasn’t exactly in the mood for looking at his swollen, post-crying face in the mirror for that long, so he just hurriedly dried his hair and dressed, avoiding his own reflection.

To his surprise, he left the bathroom to walk into a nurse bringing him lunch, and it made him realize he had been so lost in the entire situation that he hadn’t even checked the time at all that day. He knew that he hadn’t taken too long in the shower, and he was still feeling rather full after the toasts Burr had talked him into eating, so he assumed they had slept in quite late.

Eyeing his plate, Alexander once again didn’t feel like touching the meal at all, but this time, it wasn’t because of the all too familiar lump in his throat, or at least that was what he told himself. All that there was to it was that he had just had a delayed breakfast. _I can always eat it later_ , he thought, as he was walking out of the room.

 

“Welcome back!”, Burr said the moment Alex opened the door, not even shifting his eyes from the screen. He kept typing for another minute and then closed the laptop. “How did you like the lunch?” he asked, conversationally, and looked up, scanning for reactions.

_Shit._

“If you thought that was a smooth concealment of the “Have you eaten?” question, then you were wrong,” Alex shot back without thinking, his sharp tongue finally coming back, “the answer is no, by the way.”

He bit his lip once the words were out, thinking for a moment that Burr would take them as a return to his former attitude, but the man just laughed.

“I still need to work on that, huh?”, he smiled and pointed to a full plate on the edge of his desk, but before Alex had a chance to start ensuring him that he really wasn’t hungry, the doctor cleared up “I’m not exactly being the best role model now, either.”

He didn’t expect that kind of a response at all.

“So you’re not disappointed with me?”

“I’d be if you tried to lie to me.”

Alex just kept staring at the man with a puzzled expression, not quite able to wrap his head around the sense behind that strategy.

“Hold on, let me get this right,” he started, raising his eyebrows. “I can do irresponsible shit all I want as long as I tell you about it? What’s the point, then?”

“Hamilton, it’s not about you being allowed to _do irresponsible shit,_ ” Burr sighed, “it’s about building trust. I cannot help you if _I_ can’t trust _you,_ nor if _you_ don’t trust _me,_ ” he pointed a finger at himself as if he was trying to explain something to a child. “And believe me or not, trust is about the smallest things. While I might not be happy that you did, or didn’t do something, I’ll always appreciate if you end up just telling me the truth instead of cooking up excuses or lies,” he smiled again. “So thank you for doing that.”

Alexander considered that justification in silence for a few minutes. He had to admit that, once again, there was something to the doctor’s logic. The fact that this time lying hadn’t been the first defensive reaction that had come to his mind. Maybe they were actually progressing? It hadn’t been long since he had made the decision to open up to Burr, but their relation had, indeed, changed rather dramatically. As much as he didn’t want to acknowledge it, he was becoming less and less uncomfortable around the doctor, and starting to go over _what could’ve been_ if he hadn’t been so hostile towards him from their very first encounter, slowly realizing how much time he had lost.

“Can we begin?” Burr’s question made him realize the room had been quiet for a bit too long.

“Sure, sorry,” Alex shook his head a little, as if to physically force the unwanted conclusions out. “I got lost in my thoughts,” he added.

“And what were you thinking about?”, Burr surprised him with a follow up to his explanation.

“How things… evolved between us?”, he chuckled the second the words left his mouth. “That sounded extremely weird, but you know what I meant, right?”, Alex looked at the smiling doctor, and went on when he got a nod in response. “And about all the time that I’ve wasted,” he frowned.

“So, what do you think changed, from your perspective?”

Alexander just sat in silence for a moment, struggling to find the right way to phrase what he had in mind, but eventually spoke.

“I’ve become more open-minded about the therapy, I guess,” he was weighing every word carefully, “and stopped trying to block all my doubts out.”

Burr took out the notebook Alex had already seen him using before, and began taking notes.

“What could be the reason why you started to _block them out_ in the first place?”

_These questions are just getting worse,_ Alex thought, taking his time once more, eyes blankly travelling around the office as he was searching for the answer. It wasn’t about him not knowing it, it was about the way of acknowledging it out loud, putting it into words. Something in talking so openly about his feelings still felt wrong, unfamiliar, and he wasn’t used to being unable to express something. The amount of effort he had to put into forming a coherent response that would still sound honest and natural at the same time, was starting to get really frustrating.

The doctor didn’t rush Alex, patiently waiting for him to speak.

“Because I was afraid they could make me change my mind,” he finally said.

Burr just nodded, and instead of asking another follow-up, unexpectedly changed the topic entirely.

“What are the reservations that you still have caused by?” his tone was softer than before. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but the impression I got was that you knew what to say, but overthought it in order not to expose yourself too much.”

A shiver ran down Alex’s spine at how perceptive and accurate the observation was. He never had underestimated Burr, but the man was even more intelligent that he had first taken him for.

“I’m still struggling with this entire idea, talking so much about such personal things. Haven’t done it-” he hesitated, taking a deep breath, and shoving away what he was initially going to say, “...- in a while.”

He wondered if Burr had noticed his sudden change of mind mid-sentence. If he had, he didn’t let it show or pick up on it.

“I think that would wrap the session up” the man announced, instead.

“So fast?” Alex queried, confused.

“Well, you’ve been here for almost an hour. Considering all the other circumstances, I think that’s enough for today.”

Alexander furrowed his brow. _An hour? How was that possible?_ He’d gauge it to be 15 minutes at most.

He made to stand up, but Burr stopped him.

“Actually, there is one more thing I’d like to discuss; not strictly therapy-related.”

“Yes?”

He had no idea what the doctor could be talking about. _Seabury? Anthony?_ Alex had considered asking about the second one himself, but dismissed the idea, not feeling comfortable with that matter yet.

“If you had to choose one thing that is making your stay in here difficult the most, what would it be?”

The question didn’t make much sense to Alexander - how was it not therapy-related? For once, though, he didn’t have to think too long about the answer.

“I’m missing my children,” he said, painfully honest, looking blankly through the window as if his eyes could reach all the way to them.

“That’s what I expected,” the doctor replied, making him even more confused. “See, I asked about that because few days ago, your wife called,” Alex’s gaze momentarily turned to Burr. “She wanted to know if they could visit you.”

He felt a spark of hope warm up his chest, images of the kids playing before his eyes. _God, how much he’d give to see them._

“At that time, I said no,” Alex’s heart dropped in a matter of seconds, but Burr quickly added “Not only because of your attitude - we just don't allow young children at the ward in general. However, now, since you’ve shown so much effort and willingness to cooperate, I changed my mind. But under one condition.”

“What is it?” he nearly jumped.  
  
“You’ll let me be present during the visit,” Alex opened his mouth to protest, but the doctor raised his hand to hush him and continued. “I know, you probably think it’s humiliating. But hear me out - for you it would be a chance to spend some time with them, and for me, it could help me significantly broaden my understanding of you, and your personality. Also, that's the only way I can ensure that the visit here will be safe for them, too."

For the next few minutes, the only sound in the room was the ticking of the clock and Alex's quickened breathing.

"So?”


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS FIC IS ALIVE
> 
> Ok so your disobedient servant WENT TO SEE HAMILTON ON WEST END (and also bumped into George Washington but that's a story for another day xD) 
> 
> And that was definitely the final push (or final bump hehe) I needed to finally pick up writing again. I'm a bit out of rhythm, but I'll do my best.  
> Thank you for all the kudos and comments.
> 
> Enjoy!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I'm so happy we're back.

_No._

_This is wrong._

_No._

Alex thought about what he had in mind just a few minutes ago. That he’d do _anything,_ just for a moment with them.

But this? This felt like the last, most desperate option; like a decision he would most certainly regret and hate himself for in the future. Something even his children could hate him for. Something that would seal his breakdown, be the final nail in the coffin.

Alex was aware that he probably was exaggerating, his common sense trying to crawl on top of all the emotions, but _what if he wasn’t?_ Could he say yes, just for _his own comfort_ , just to make _himself_ feel better? Was he allowed to be that selfish, to make his kids into some sort of _goddamn guinea pigs?_ And how could Burr suggest something like this in the first place?

He began to shake, heart pondering in his chest.

“Yes,” he said out of nowhere and a little bit too loud, making the doctor jump slightly.

Some part of him hoped for Burr to ask again, so he would  get a chance to change his mind, to take it back and pretend he had never even taken agreeing into consideration. But all the doctor did was nod.

It felt as if he had accidentally pulled a trigger of a gun that happened to be loaded, only realizing what he had done the very moment the bullet was out. Fast, surprising, with no coming back.

The only thing left that he could do now was check whether he had shot himself in the foot. 

 

And the day when he we would find out the answer to that question finally came.

Week had passed fairly quickly, much quicker than he had expected it to. The thought of seeing his children had carried him through it, even despite all the second thoughts and doubts that had been stubbornly _itching_ in his mind. But Alexander, fully aware of their existence, had consciously chosen to ignore them, shut them out as best as he could.

The day he had agreed to Burr’s offer, Alex had promised himself that he wouldn't try to back out. So he had been fighting, every single day, for the insecurity and pangs of conscience not to win over. Clung to the image of his smiling children, to the promise of hearing their lighthearted laughter again. He had continued his personal therapy, and had remained honest while answering all the seemingly pointless questions. Put on a confident mask every time the meeting had been coming to an end, just in case the doctor would decide to finally ask him again about the visit.

But he hadn't. If he had, Alex would have had to make _an exception_ just for that _one question_ , lie just that _one last time_ . He had prepared an answer, had _written_ it in his head during one of the sleepless nights that had reappeared in his life yet again, when he had been restlessly rolling over in bed and battling with his own thoughts. But he never had to, because Burr just hadn't asked it.

Up until the very day of the visit.

"Are you certain you want to do this?"

And Alexander didn't see it coming. He had just sat down, ready for the next round of _emotional interviewing_ , as he referred to it. Caught off guard, when the push finally came to shove, he found himself losing his tongue, failing to say out loud the answer he had gone through so many times in his mind.

One morning, he had gone as far as standing in front of the mirror and looking himself in the eyes while silently repeating it under his breath, to make sure he sounded and looked convinced enough.

_Pathetic_ , he thought as he recalled it and swallowed hard, trying to regain enough control to come up with something to tell the waiting doctor, to remember the practiced sentence.

“Alexander? What’s wrong?” Burr asked with concern.

“Nothing. It’s all fi-”

“Remember what I told you about trust?” the man cut him off, and Alex momentarily fell silent, trying to avoid his gaze like a child who had been caught by a parent when doing something wrong.

Either Burr was a walking lie detector or his attempt at lying had been so ridiculously obvious.

Probably both.

But Alex still didn't feel like giving up on his plan, just decided to adapt it to the unforeseen situation.

"I'm nervous, that's all," he tried to sound convincing but he wasn't too sure whether he was trying to convince the doctor or himself. "Wouldn't you feel the same if you were in my spot?" He eyed the doctor to add some power to his words and make them seem more honest, but Burr still seemed unimpressed.

"You sure you don't want to tell me the truth?"

Alex sighed. _Well, it was worth the try_.

"I've been anxious about it the entire week, just hiding it better, I guess," he began, defeated.

"Do you really think I haven't noticed how you've been beating yourself over this the entire time?"

"Then what the hell is your point?" Alex's voice involuntarily became louder as he began to feel the anger crawling under his skin. "Why haven't you asked me days ago?"

"I was waiting and hoping you'll bring it up yourself. Do you feel like talking about it?"

“No,” he snapped, still driven by the annoyance. If Burr really had known all that time, how could he just allow him to struggle without saying a word?

“Okay, that’s your decision.”

“So what, we’re just going to get back to all our regular topics like nothing happened?!” Alex was positively yelling at this point, and he couldn’t even bring himself to care.

“What do you want, then, Alexander? You’re being ridiculous,” Burr’s tone became more serious. “Are you expecting me to force you to talk, so you can keep telling yourself you were under constraint and never wanted to confess?”

Silence fell over the room.

_What do I want?_ Alex asked himself, realizing that the doctor was right.

“So?”

“I’m sorry,” he struggled to say it and avoided Burr’s stare once more, but the words eventually made it out.

“Don’t be sorry, you don’t need to be,” doctor’s professional mask that he had put on just a second ago melted a bit again, “I’d rather just hear the entire truth than apologies. I know it’s not easy, but I can guarantee you, you’ll feel better once you stop bottling it up,” he reassuringly squeezed his arm a little bit as he finished, and Alexander found surprising comfort in it.

He finally looked Burr in the eye, holding his gaze for way too long, his own heavy breathing being the loudest sound in the room. The scene probably looked ridiculous, he thought, _as we’re about to kiss or confess love_. That image caused him to let out a short snort, a small smile creeping into the corners of his lips.

“You just drowned in my eyes didn’t you,” Burr mirrored his smile and laughed a bit too, easing some of the tension.

_I’m starting to really like him,_ Alex thought, slightly scared with that discovery. But what scared him even more was the realization that there was no way for him to avoid revealing the truth now.

He looked down, the smile disappearing, and took a deep breath, holding the air in for ten precisely measured seconds, as he listened to the ticking of the clock.

“I’m selfish. This is selfish. I shouldn’t make them visit just because that’s what I want,” he kept spitting the words as fast as he could, shaking his head “shouldn’t put them through this, shouldn’t put Eliza through this, I shouldn’t, I shoul-” he was suddenly cut off by Burr gently holding his chin up, making their eyes meet again, other hand still squeezing his arm.

“Alexander, please, stop, all of this is fine,” he said in a soft voice.

Only then Alex realized Burr had lately stopped calling him Hamilton. It was probably unconscious, and he would’ve pointed it out with passion and thrown a fit because of it just a week ago. But somehow, now, it wasn’t bothering him at all anymore. So, to his own surprise, he just remained silent about it.

“You are not doing anything wrong,” the doctor continued assuring him, and Alexander desperately wanted to believe him. “You have the right to see them, and I promise you with all of my heart, even though this might not be the best place for children, they’ll be perfectly safe here, I won’t let anything bad happen to them,” Burr hesitated for a second, eyes going absent for a brief moment, but eventually added “just like I wouldn’t let anything happen to my Theodosia.”

It was the last thing Alex had expected him to say, but it was a pleasant surprise. To get something in return for all the opening up he had done.

He felt a little bit of warmth arise in his heart, the worry finally easing off.

“Thank you, Aaron,” he said and smiled cheekily as the doctor’s brows raised at the sound of his name. _Two could play this game._

The initial astonishment on Burr’s face slowly turned into a smile as well, as the man shook his head a bit and snorted.

“I certainly hope your kids took after their mother, because dear God, four miniature _you’s_ would be rather overwhelming.”


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A longer chapter, since we're finally progressing with the plot!  
> Thank you for all the lovely comments, I really can't believe this fic has over 300 kudos and 5000 hits already!
> 
> Enjoy!

Alexander’s heart was pounding in anticipation, chest tightening with every shaky breath he took, despite his desperate efforts to remain calm. Even if Burr had somehow managed to lessen the remorse and guilt a bit just a few minutes ago, the fear and stress were still very much present and were eating him alive every unbearable second of waiting.

He remembered the last time he had seen them, and how painful the goodbye had been. Caught himself wishing that Washington were by his side again, just like he had been there the day he had entered the clinic. He didn’t even know why that idea came to his mind. It was ridiculous, made absolutely no sense whatsoever. Yet for some reason, the older man’s presence seemed like the one and only thing that could put him at ease. But Alex was painfully aware that was not an option this time.

“What are you thinking about?”

He shook his head and blinked rapidly in effort to come back to reality, taken by surprise by the question, then took a moment to come up with an answer that wouldn’t confuse Burr too much.

 _I’m really getting old_ , Alex thought, as he realized how much slower his mind was now compared to the past, how much longer it was taking him to find the right words. It terrified him slightly, but he quickly justified it with the difficult nature of his current situation, before he could actually start panicking about it.

“I was thinking about senator Washington,” he settled with complete honesty, which got him a baffled expression on Burr’s face in response. _Yeah, daydreaming about their boss is what most people would do in this situation, brilliant, Alexander,_ he thought as he gave himself a mental slap. “Or rather about how I wish I had his support right now, just like I had the last time I met with my kids,” he added quickly, trying to explain what he meant.

“Oh,” Burr’s confusion disappeared, his features softening and brows no longer furrowed, “I figured you were close but didn’t realize to this extent,” he elaborated after a moment of silence.

“Well, I’ve known him longer than anyone else in my life. We’ve been through a lot together, kept each other sane throughout the years,” he smiled to himself a bit.

One could think it was only Alexander who needed someone to ground him, stop him from going crazy. But Washington, behind the thick layer of composure and self-restraint, had a pretty bad temper as well. Just much more experience in hiding and controlling it. Yet behind closed doors, the man was far from perfect and Alex took pride in knowing him like that, being the one allowed to see that side of him.

But his smile faded quickly as he remembered the circumstances under which Washington had lost his calm last time.

“He’s the closest thing to a father that I've ever had,” Alex hesitated as the words finally left his mouth. He had thought about Washington that way before, but saying it out loud, admitting it, was a different thing.

Burr remained silent, observing carefully, not attempting to rush him or question further. Alexander was grateful for that, especially as he took a longer moment to weigh his words and battled to convince himself to add another thing he had never dared to tell anyone.

“I’ve always looked up to him,” Alex paused to take a deep breath, ”you know, it’s hard to explain to someone, but as an orphan, you don’t exactly have an idea of how a family should function, no role model, no one to turn to with all the question you suddenly find yourself having, yet you want to be the best parent you can be because you’ve experienced how it is without them and, and-” he stuttered as he realized he was probably pointlessly rambling and gave up on continuing.

“Sorry, this is likely not making much sense to you”, Alex said with a bittersweet smile playing on his lips.

“I’m an orphan too.”

 _Oh, shit. That explains the old photography_ , his eyes traveled to the black-and-white picture he had noticed some time ago.

“It’s fine, don’t worry,” Burr assured him with a soft smile, and only then Alexander realized he had actually said that out loud. “And yes, that one was taken before I was even born, my mother is pregnant with my older sister there. I like it a lot because they look so... carelessly happy. That’s how I like to imagine them, as I don’t really have any memories of them.”

Alexander looked at Burr, not certain how to comment on the new revelation, but certain of one thing - he was becoming more and more fascinated with the initially detested doctor. The hate towards the man had faded long ago, but now, sympathy wasn’t the only feeling replacing it anymore. There was also _curiosity,_ that just kept growing and growing with every new portion of information. There was something incredibly appealing about discovering the small facts, puzzle pieces that would eventually allow him to reveal the real Aaron Burr, hidden behind the mask of professionalism and restraint.

The doctor seemed to be in a mood for talking, and Alex was quite desperate for something that would take his mind off waiting anyways, so he decided to push his luck further, and attempt to learn even more. He had nothing to lose, after all.

“How old were you when they passed?”, he found himself asking, despite expecting Burr to dismiss his question.

To his surprise, that didn’t happen.

“I was 2,” he answered as he met Alex’s gaze, “they both died in a car accident. Family took care of me and my sister, though _taking care_ is not exactly the expression I’d use to describe it,” he chuckled, but the hint of sadness in his eyes wasn’t too hard to catch.

“I guess I was lucky compared to you then, my father left when I was 10, it didn’t make much difference though, he was never really there in the first place. Mom died when I was 12 and her… her I’ll never forget,” he shared in exchange, surprised with his own, uncoerced candidness.

Burr opened his mouth to say something but was cut off by his phone ringing.

“Yes?” he picked up and listened to whatever information the caller had for him, nodded to himself. “Yes, okay,” was all he said before hanging up.

“They’re at the clinic,” he turned back to Alex, “Sally should bring them here any minute.”

 _Shit_.

Well, there was no escaping now. Alexander swallowed loudly and closed his eyes shut for a second. Before he knew, Burr walked back to him, but instead of sitting in the armchair as he normally would, he joined Alex’s side on the _psychiatric chair._ He still thought that chair was ridiculous, so during most of their sessions, he’d just sit on the edge of it, or cross-legged on top, with Burr nearby. But never next to him. Even though there was more than enough space for two on it, and the doctor had always stayed within arm’s reach anyways, had held his hand or performed other reassuring gestures, _had goddamn fallen asleep on his arm and drooled all over him_ , he had never done _this._ Alex didn’t know why, but it felt closer, more personal and _intimate_ than anything before.

“Can I tell you something, not as your doctor, but as a _friend_?”

The question caught Alexander off-guard, his eyes widening a bit at the last word, but he nodded.

“You know, I wish I had someone like you had, and still have, a fatherly figure to learn from,” Burr paused for a second, and Alex couldn’t resist interrupting.

“Yeah, because look at how much that helped me with being a good father,” he snapped sarcastically, earning a surprised look from the doctor.

“Do you really think you’re not a good father? Because from everything you’ve shared with me, there’s been quite a lot of things and situations in your life that you haven’t dealt with in the best possible way, but being a father is definitely not one,” Burr noticed how Alex’s gaze dropped, and without hesitation, put an arm around him, and tilted his head to meet his eyes “you’re a great dad, Alexander. You are. And just how stressed and worried you are about this, proves it to be true more than anything else.”

He tried to find a smart, eloquent answer to doctor’s statement, wanted to argue, but he couldn’t. He blinked away a single tear that formed in his eye, opened his mouth to say something, but instead of attempting to negate the words of assurance Burr had just given him, the only thing he said was a simple, shaky “thank you,” followed by silence.

 

Before either of them felt like breaking it, there was a knock on the door.

“Come in!”, the doctor answered as he got up.

What happened next made Alex forget any doubt he had ever had about this.

“Daddy!”

Before he could even fully stand up, Angie ran to him and jumped into his arms, one hand wrapped around his neck, other occupied with holding her favorite plush bunny, while Philip and Alexander were clinging to his sides.

They were acting quite noisy and wild, didn’t even bother to say “good morning” to Burr, and Alex knew he should tell them to calm down, but he didn’t want to. He wanted to enjoy this, enjoy them being so happy about seeing him. And he expected Eliza to do it, anyway.

But when he eventually looked away from the kids and into the doors' direction, he froze instantly, the wide smile fading. There was no Eliza in them. The woman holding little James wasn’t his wife. His heart dropped.

“Angelica,” was all he managed, as a stream of emotions and questions overpowered his mind completely.

“Alexander.”

“All the way from London,” he whispered, not sure whether it was a question or a statement.

They stood there, looking at each other in complete silence, for way too long for the kids’ liking.

“Daddy?” Angie started shifting in his hold, impatient.

“There princess,” he said as he put her back on the ground, kissing her forehead before letting her go.

He bent to do the same to the boys, and moved to pick James from Angelica’s arms, but stopped as their eyes met when he was just a step away from her.

Alex attempted to voice at least one of the questions that were still crossing his mind, but as soon as he opened his mouth, Angelica raised her hand in a silencing gesture.

“I’m not here for you,” she said while carefully handing him his youngest, her tone making it clear there was no room for discussion.

He took James from her and held him close, but couldn’t bring himself to move or say anything, still holding her gaze as he felt his eyes going misty.

“Ahem,” Burr cleared his throat, reminding Alexander about his presence.

“Yes, right,” Alex shook his head, trying to gather his thoughts, and blinked away the tears that were trying to form. “Kids, this is doctor Bu-”

“Aaron,” the man interrupted him before he could finish.

_For Christ’s sake, will anyone allow me to say anything today._

“Aaron,” he corrected himself, and turned to face the doctor, “and these are my children,” he pointed to them and began introducing, “Angelica, my only daughter, my eldest, Philip, and Alexander Jr. Kids, please say hello to doc-... Aaron.”

“Hello!”, Angelica and Philip obeyed eagerly, while their brother hid behind Alex’s leg.

Burr grinned warmly and waved at them in response.

“The little one here,” the smile returned to his face as James made a little gurgling sound “is my youngest, James,” Alex said and hesitated for a moment, “and that’s Angelica Schuyler, my siste-” he bit his tongue before she could correct him, “my ex-wife’s sister.”

“Nice to meet you,” she nodded politely at Burr, “unfortunately my sister couldn’t make it today.”

The doctor said something, but Alex switched off, Angelica’s words painfully echoing in his mind, heart dropping for the second time. Of course, Eliza _couldn’t make it_.

“Mommy’s seeing a doctor too, that’s why.”

Philip’s words brought him back to the reality in a blink of an eye.

“What?”, he asked, confused, even though he had heard him perfectly fine.

“Mommy has a visit at a hos-”

“That’s enough Philip,” Angelica cut the boy off in a gentle, yet firm tone and turned to Alexander “that’s none of your concern.”

“But-”

“You have an hour and a half with the kids, make the most out of it instead of arguing with me.”

She was right, and he knew it, but the information his son had shared… He _ached_ to know what’s going on, millions of scenarios playing in his mind. But it wasn’t curiosity, it was worry. A pure worry for the woman he had loved for so many years. For the woman he still, very much, loved, despite everything that had happened.

If it had been anyone else, he would've tried to fight, to find out more. But it was _Angelica_. And unless something had changed in the past few months, which he heavily doubted, she was the most stubborn and confident person Alexander had ever known, including himself.

So instead, he just nodded, not trusting his own mouth enough to give her a proper answer and followed her suggestion.

He sat down on an abandoned sofa in the corner of the office, thinking that it was probably the first time anyone had ever made a use of it, and the kids surrounded him momentarily.

 

The short time they had had flown by all too fast and it wasn’t even nearly enough to catch up on everything he had missed, but he was grateful for it. Another thing that he was grateful for was how both Burr and Angelica just _let them be_ and had restrained from any interruption throughout the entire meeting.

He tried to drag the goodbye as much as he could, and so did the kids, refusing to let go of him, crying and protesting.

“You’ll see daddy very soon again, I promise,” Burr spoke for the first time since the introduction, and it made a tiny spark of hope grow in Alexander’s heart. 

 _Soon. So he made a decision that I can see them again_.

“But I want to stay with daddy, now,” Angie sobbed, and Alex had to pull every trick he knew not to start crying as well.

“I’d like you to stay too, princess, but it’s impossible. You need to go with aunt,” he couldn’t believe he managed to say it without breaking down, but he did.

 

After a final round of kisses and hugs, they finally left, and the moment the door closed behind Angelica, Alexander’s knees buckled, unable to hold his weight any longer, and he collapsed on the chair, hiding his face in his hands.

After a couple of seconds, Burr was at his side again.

“Are you gonna be alright?”, he asked, words heavy with concern.

“Yeah. I just need a moment.”

Burr nodded in understanding and wrapped an arm around him, and this time, Alexander leaned into him, involuntarily, desperately seeking any sense of comfort. When he realized what he had done, he twitched slightly, but didn’t move. He was too far gone to care

 

After what must have been solid ten minutes of them just sitting in silence, Alex finally shifted a bit. Burr moved his arm, stood up and passed him a tissue. He looked at it, confused, and only then noticed a wet patch on the doctor's shirt and realized that he had been crying the entire time.

“Now, I believe it’s time for lunch,” the doctor began as Alex was wiping his face, “would you like to eat here, or do you prefer to take a break in your room?”

“Here is fine,” he answered, his voice slightly hoarse.

“Okay;” Burr’s features softened “you did great Alexander, you shouldn’t be blaming yourself for anything,” he reassured as if he could read Alex’s mind. “But you will have to explain to me what happened between the two of you.”

“What?”, Alex wasn’t sure if had missed something earlier or had misheard the last sentence. “What happened between me and who?”

“Angelica Schuyler.”

_Oh._

_Oh shit._


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was gonna update during Christmas but I was very busy stuffing my face with food, sleeping and reading gay porn.  
> Woopsies  
> Well here's a new chapter, enjoy, and again, thank you for all the love. And just for reading this, in general. You're the bestest.

He stared blankly at his sandwich as he kept stabbing it dispassionately with a fork, for no particular reason other than that he wasn’t hungry at all, but needed to occupy himself with something, anything to forget about the upcoming session for at least a second.

_Why do they even give you a goddamn fork with a sandwich?_

“I’ve been asking myself this exact question for years,” Burr snorted, and Alex realized that he had, yet again, voiced his thoughts without realizing, and made a mental note to control himself the next time. “Today, however, it’s probably so that you can stab yourself with it once you try the sandwich and discover how remarkably disgusting it is,” the man winced.

“Wow, now that encouraged me to eat, good that I’m not struggling with it as it is, right,” he responded, every word lined heavily with sarcasm.

“Well, I’ve already ordered pizza, but if you want me to encourage you to eat… _that_ , then go, go, you can do it!”

Alex couldn’t resist laughing a bit at that. He didn’t know what had happened with Burr, but he seemed quite different. Much more relaxed, for some reason.

“I think I’d rather go with pizza as well, then,” he said as he pushed the plate away with relief. “Aaron?”

“Yes?”

He hesitated for a second, deciding whether or not to ask the question playing at the tip of his tongue and then took another moment to phrase it properly.

“Don’t get me wrong,” Alex eventually began, weighing his words carefully, “but what got into you today? You seem so different, so… _open?_ ”, he trailed off, unable to find any other expression to describe the shift in Burr’s approach towards him.

“Is it bothering you?” Burr answered with a question.

_A clunky effort to dodge giving me an actual response_ , Alexander thought, a tiny bit pleased with himself when there was no comment from Burr to follow, meaning this time he, in fact, hadn’t said it out loud.

“No, no it’s not,” he said, genuinely, instead of revealing that he had read through the doctor’s true intentions and trying to catch him red-handed. “I… like it,” he raised his brows and shook his head a bit, surprised by his own words. “But it just doesn’t seem like a very... Burr thing to do.”

“A Bu-urr thi-thing to do?” the doctor choked on his coffee as he broke into laughter, coughed a couple of times to recover, few tears running down his cheek, and for a moment Alex got worried that Burr will actually suffocate to death. “Elaborate on that, please,” he finally managed, rubbing his eyes, still evidently amused.

“You’re not very forthcoming, usually-”

“Have you taken into consideration that maybe, just maybe, me being so… inhibited had to do with the fact that you were constantly trying to insult me and promised to “make my life a living hell”?”, Burr cut him off and asked with a huge grin.

“Well now that you put it that way,” he let out a chuckle, but refused to drop the subject, “though you remained like that even after I had changed my mind about being a jerk.”

Burr sighed, his expression getting slightly more serious, but despite Alex’s expectations he still seemed to be in a good mood, smile very much present.

“Since I was a kid, I’ve been following, or trying to follow a simple rule: talk less, smile more.”

Pure confusion overtook Alexander’s face, and he didn’t even attempt to hide it.

“And what is that supposed to mean?”

“Be polite, but don’t let people know what you’re against or what you’re for, what values are truly important to you,” the doctor explained, causing Alex’s confusion to only deepen instead of easing it, “these things can only be used against you.”

“But… how are you hosting a freaking therapy, then?”, he couldn’t help raising his voice a bit, unable to wrap his mind around Burr’s thought process. “How are you holding these long conversations with people, convincing them to share their stories, when you keep your own story safe and locked? How can you help others find the right values when you never acknowledge yours? If you stand for nothing, what will you fall for?”, he kept spitting questions one after one, but there was no anger in them, just curiosity. “I don’t understand.”

“You don’t have to understand everything, Alexander,” was the only answer Burr gave him, along with widening his smile again.

But then another question came up to his mind, burning, screaming to be asked with every second he was thinking about it. He knew it Burr could clam up and retreat again as a result of it, but he couldn’t resist, and eventually, he gave up into the urge of saying it.

“But then, why am I different? What made you want to make an exemption _for me_?”

And as he predicted, it made Burr fall silent, brows furrowing.

“This, Alexander,” he finally responded, after at least a minute, “I myself don’t know.”

A knock on the door stopped Alexander from commenting on that answer, maybe for his own good.

“Come in!”

It was Sally, with two boxes of pizza.

“Ah, thank you!”, Burr said when she put them on the desk.

She made to leave, but suddenly stopped in the door frame, looked Alex up and down, considering something, and then turned the doctor.

“Please, Aaron, you promised you’ll talk with her, she called again, I can’t keep this up any longer.”

“Sally, this is not the right time nor place,” he almost whispered, his face becoming visibly annoyed.

“It never is, Aaron. It never is,” she shook her head and slammed the door behind herself.

If Alex had thought it’s impossible for him to get any more confused with Burr, he had been wrong. Millions of _why’s_ ran through his mind. _Why is she calling her boss by his first name? Why is she talking about “her”? Why didn’t she just mention the woman’s name? Why would these two share any personal issues?_

This time though, he bit his tongue in time and coldly judged the situation. There was no point in asking, it would only cause more damage than good.

“ _Don’t let them know what you’re for_ , yet you order goddamn pineapple on your pizza? That gives out everything about you as a person,” he joked instead, attempting to shift the sudden heaviness of the atmosphere in the room, and unexpectedly, it worked, “though honestly I always had a feeling you’re somehow perverted, just didn’t expect it to be in the worst possible way,” he added as he watched Burr’s expression change gradually, from annoyed to quite amused.

“There, I took one with _ham_ only for you,” he grinned as he put awful emphasis on the word ham.

Alexander almost broke his own nose when he facepalmed.

 

“So. Angelica Schuyler?”

Alex was still wiping his fingers with a napkin when the name rang loudly in his ears. _There goes the hope that he forgot._

“Angelica Schuyler”, he repeated, and just fell silent, no follow up whatsoever.

He needed time for this. Needed to focus, to pick the most essential parts of the extremely complex and long story. The task seemed nearly impossible if he were to be honest with himself. There was no way he could put everything that had ever happened between the two of them into just a couple of sentences, let alone ones that would make sense to Burr.

“What’s wrong?”

“There’s just… so much. So much that I don’t know where to start.”

“Try with the beginning.”

He was about to snap something along the lines of _no shit Sherlock_ but decided that maybe Burr had a point, as he allowed himself to drown in the memories. _Oh how well he remembered that night._

“We met at a Christmas charity party, a filthy-rich-people-event that John had talked me into going with him. In a shortcut, we were kids, we were stupid, we were hitting on every lady in the room that was relatively pretty”, he smiled to himself at the memory, missing the carelessness of his young years. “But then I walked into Angelica and… And for a moment I thought that she was too unreal, too good to be true. We talked for a few minutes, but it felt as if we had known each other for years. And then, when she was leading me across the room to introduce me to her sister, I noticed it. A ring. Not just plain jewelry, an engagement ring, clearly…”

He paused and let his mind play the scene for him like a movie. The details were a bit blurry, with all the years that had passed. But her face… Her face he still remembered as if it had been yesterday.

“So is that when you met your wife, as well?”, Burr asked after a prolonged moment of silence, bringing Alex back to reality.

“Yes…”, he hesitated, unsure whether or not he should tell the doctor the next part of the story, the one he had never shared with anyone before other than John, who had taken it with him to the grave. “For the next few weeks, before I officially started dating Eliza we-we…”, he stuttered, “one night she called me, came to my door. She was in awful shape, crying, tipsy to say the least, sobbed in my arms telling me how she doesn’t love him at all and how he’s mistreating her and I... We... We both knew it was wrong, we knew it would bear awful consequences if anyone found out but we just… we couldn’t bring ourselves to say no.”

He bit his lip nervously. His heart was pounding and his hands were sweating as he awaited words of judgment and condemnation from Burr, but he also felt as if a huge weight had been lifted off his chest, now that someone _knew._

“I see”, was the only response he got.

Alex stayed quiet for a moment, not sure what to say to that. Eventually, he decided to carry on with his story.

“She was the one who ended it. I told her to leave him, that we could figure everything out, find a way to be together but… but she didn’t want to disappoint her family. And more than anything, she wanted Eliza to be happy. So she asked me to promise her that I’ll never tell anyone and that I’ll be just as good to her sister as I was to her. In a couple of months, she married that guy, I proposed to Eliza soon after. After we married and had Philip, she moved to London, because her husband had some business there”, he took a deep breath, “and before you ask we never… we never did it again.”

“But you didn’t lose touch with her, did you?”

The question froze him. _How did he know?_

“No. We’d write letters to each other, every day at the beginning, then every week.”

“Letters?”

“Yes, like, actual paper letters Burr,” he said, furrowing his eyebrows at the doctor, who raised his hands in a surrendering gesture in a response. “She eventually divorced him, after a couple of years - way too long if you ask me - but stayed in London anyway. I had no idea she’s back, it’s been a long while since she visited…”

“Does anyone else know about this?”

“No. John knew, but John’s dead,” his words were laced with deep sadness that he hoped Burr hadn’t noticed, or at least would pretend he hadn't. He didn’t want to go back to the John talk again, especially not right after Angelica.

“Well, thank you for telling me, Alexander.”

“That’s it?! You’re not going to tell me how fucked up that was?”, Alex couldn’t hide his amazement.

Burr smiled.

“Alex, it’s really not my job to judge. My job is to draw conclusions from what you tell me, and help you based on that.”

“Oh, so I’m Alex now?”, he asked, slightly amused, earning himself a loud sigh.

“There’s another person that I’d like to discuss your relations with, too, and I think you know who’s on my mind” the doctor changed the subject after a couple of seconds, and Alex’s mirth was gone as quick as it had appeared.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter is going to be very Hamburr dense, so fasten your seatbelts and 
> 
> wait for it :3333


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize this took so long, I got super sick and my brain wasn't really functioning.
> 
> I hope the length makes up for it (hehe.)
> 
> Enjoy!

Alexander could swear he felt blood freeze in his veins, from the tips of his shaking fingers all the way up to his pounding heart, making it stop for a second. The world began spinning around him, and he wanted to run, but at the same time, he was almost paralyzed. He couldn’t do this. 

He couldn’t. He wasn’t even physically capable of it. Panic continued to build in him, closer and closer to exploding with every second.

Burr scanned his reactions, and the moment he read him, concern overtook his face. In a blink of an eye, before Alex could react, the man was standing right next to him, putting a hand on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry Alexander, this is too much for one session, I’m sorry, I-” Burr’s words were rushed and chaotic, and it struck Alex that this was the most emotional the doctor ever got during the therapy.

It was so...  _ unlike him _ . He remembered his panic attack that had started all this, that had made him change his approach, and how Burr had kept calm despite the unexpected turn of events.

Yet, it also felt  _ right _ . With the clear shift of the boundaries and vanishment of most of the prejudices, it felt just about right to get a little bit more of  _ real _ Burr.

“Hey, it’s okay,” the doctor’s voice became softer, “we’ll pick this issue up later, when you’re ready, for now, just breathe,” he said and smiled.

Alex wasn’t entirely sure what he was doing, but in the heat of the moment, he stood up, his knees still slightly soft from the earlier stress, and just wrapped his arms around Burr, holding onto him for dear life.

“It’s okay,” he heard the doctor repeat himself quietly, while instead of pushing him away, Burr’s hands moved to his back.

He closed his eyes and slowly attempted to make his breathing come back to normal, inhaling and exhaling with mindfulness, focused on how the air was filling his lungs and causing his chest to move. After a while, he caught himself paying way too much attention to Burr’s cologne.  _ But damn, he smelled nice. _

Then the awareness of how awkward the situation was slowly kicked in. He took a small step back, the chair behind him stopping him from going further and gently freed himself from Burr’s embrace. As he opened his eyes and blinked rapidly a couple of times, he realized he was now standing face to face with the doctor, their eyes locked, uncomfortably close. 

Alex loudly cleared his throat, angry with himself a bit as he felt his cheeks grow warm and prayed in his mind that Burr would take a step back. He didn’t.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what happened with me, I-”

“You were about to have a panic attack, Alexander. And you handled it surprisingly well,” the doctor cut him off, still standing so close Alex could almost  _ feel _ his breath.

“But why did this happen,” he decided to ignore the closeness for the time being and let the curiosity win, “why sometimes I’m able to talk about it...” he shivered, disgusted with his own choice of words and took a deep breath, “about  _ him _ ,” he corrected himself, “like nothing has ever happened, and then suddenly the very thought of him causes… this?”

“Because unlike what you think, your mind isn’t a perfectly programmed computer,” Burr smiled, “and your reaction in a certain situation depends on numerous factors. It isn’t impossible to predict, but it takes time to unfold what really triggers it,” the doctor let his words sink in before finally taking a step back. “If you’re okay with being alone now, I think you should definitely get some rest. But if you want to stay it’s also fi-”

“No, thank you, I’m fine,” was all Alex said before clearing his throat one more time and moving to leave. “See you tomorrow.”

“If you need anything you know where to find me. See you.”  
  


Burr was late. Which was another thing that was very unlike him. Despite being a busy man, he had never been late before. Alex looked at the clock. Their session should’ve started 15 minutes ago. He had been very surprised when a nurse had let him in the doctor’s office. He had suspected that, yet again, Burr had slept there. But no.

He was getting bored, but he appreciated that he could wait in the office, not in the corridor. He’d take it as an opportunity to study the room, but he had spent so much time in there that he knew it better than his own. So instead, he walked to the window, and watched, like a child awaiting a parent to come back from work.

_ Angie and Philip used to do that _ , he couldn’t help recalling the image of his kids, faces glued to the glass, driving their mother crazy.

But before he went deeper into his memories, he noticed a black car parking right in front of the clinic’s door, a spot reserved for the staff. He wasn’t the type of person who paid much attention to cars, but he could tell it was on the expensive side, yet not any kind of the mid-life crisis sporty things, no, it was  _ elegant _ .  _ A car that he’d exactly expect to belong to- _

Burr got out, but instead of heading straight into the building, he went to open the passenger door, and what happened next made Alex freeze.

The doctor offered the person a hand, then once she was out, gave her a rushed hug and a peck on the cheek. Which would be a perfectly normal thing to do with your wife.

But that woman was not his wife.

It was Sally.

It all suddenly clicked in Alexander’s head, and the moment it did, he saw red. The calls, staying in the office overnight, the weird conversation… Everything made  _ perfect sense _ . And he just couldn’t believe it, couldn’t believe how obnoxious they were with it, right in front of the clinic, where everyone could see them.

“Well hello Alexander, I’m sorry for being la-”

“How dare you?” Alex hissed, before the doctor even fully entered the room, causing his friendly, apologetic expression to drop momentarily and turn into confusion.

“I don’t quite understand what you-”

“Don’t pretend, I saw it!” he yelled, cutting the doctor off again. “How dare _you_ lecture me about my marriage?! You’re fucking a goddamn receptionist while your poor wife and daughter wait for you at home, probably worried out of this world about their  _ busy Aaron _ , when all you’re really busy with is screwing Sal-”

“Enough,” Burr’s face became unreadable as he held the door open and motioned for Alex to get out. 

“So you’re just going to kick me out now?!”

“No. We’re going on a trip,” he said and walked out.

Alex followed Burr in silence, clenching his fists the entire way. Once they entered the elevator, he realized they were heading out of the building.  _ Sally _ at the reception gave them a questioning look, but Burr just nodded at her in response and she got back to typing something into her computer without a word. Alex was still beyond furious when the doctor told him to get into the car, but followed the order, driven by curiosity.

“Where are we going?”

“You’ll see,” Burr answered coldly, his face still a mask.

Yet Alex could swear he noticed a hint of sadness in his eyes.

They drove for about half an hour, countless scenarios playing in Alexander’s mind the entire way, but once they stopped, he found himself rather shocked. He recognized the area of the city that they were in, not quite suburbs and not quite center, he had gone there once with Eliza when they were looking for a house. But the building in front of them...

“A hospital?”

“You will see,” the doctor repeated himself as he got out, “follow me.”

Burr clearly had been there before. The moment he entered the hospital, the nurse only nodded at him and smiled. No questions, no “how can I help you”. He walked quickly, leading Alex through the labyrinth of corridors and elevators, and just when he was about to ask the doctor what the hell was going on, Burr finally stopped and headed into one of the rooms.

He followed him in, and the moment he looked around,  _ he knew. _

His heart dropped, a lump forming in his throat.

The room was full of light, sunshine coming in through large windows. There was an armchair and a fairly big couch in the corner - clearly, it had been predicted that relatives would visit, or even stay overnight there. It would all be very impersonal, no flowers, no sign of any personal belongings, if not for the drawings - colorful, childish works of art, hanging  _ everywhere _ .

Finally, in the center, there was a large hospital bed, and in that bed, hooked to numerous machines, so many it was almost hard to spot her from under all the tubes and wires, was a sleeping woman. And even though Alex had only seen her on that one picture in Burr’s office, he recognized her immediately.

It was Burr’s wife.

“Good morning honey,” he heard the doctor’s voice and felt his eyes go misty as he watched him approach her, kneel next to the bed and gently kiss her forehead and then hand, careful not to move the IV. “This is Theodosia, my wife,” he said to Alex, still looking at her.

“I thought Theodosia was your daughter?”

“Yeah, it’s not like people name their children after a parent sometimes, right? Who does that?!” Burr asked in a sarcastic tone, raising his eyebrows and giving Alex a stare. 

“She…” he trailed off, no right words coming to his mind with how shocked he still was.

Burr swallowed loudly and his gaze dropped.

“She had a car accident,” a sad smile played on his lips, “six months ago.”

“Oh.”

They remained silent, none of them moving, for another couple of minutes, the only sound in the room being beeping of all the devices keeping Theodosia alive. Alexander tried his best to come up with something to say, but he couldn’t. His brain didn’t know how to cope with the situation, leaving him completely speechless.

Eventually, Burr stood up, and when he turned, Alex noticed a couple of tears running down the man’s cheek, and he couldn’t help but imagine what would he do if it had been his Eliza in the bed, lifeless, hooked to the machines.

Before he knew, he found himself walking to Burr and wrapping his arms around him. The physical contact still felt a bit weird at first, but at the same time, seemed like the only right thing to do. 

“I’m sorry, I had no idea.”

Apologizing was not something he’d consider himself good at, but his words were sincere. Burr relaxed in his embrace a bit and took a loud breath. For a moment it seemed like he was about to say something, but instead, he gave up on it and hugged Alexander a bit tighter.

It probably wasn’t _appropriate_ and he was aware of it. Their relation was quickly exceeding common doctor/patient limits and their sudden closeness was far from what’s considered acceptable under such circumstances. But Alexander just really didn’t care.

After a minute or two, Burr took a step back, cleared his face with the back of his hand and smiled at Alex. 

“It’s okay,” the doctor waved his hand, “you had no way of knowing. Now, I suspect that you’d like a further explanation,” he sighed, “but I just really don’t want to stay here any longer, so if that’s fine with you, we could talk somewhere else?”

“Sure.”  
  


Once they were out, Alex expected the doctor to lead him to the car again, but instead, Burr walked through the parking lot and across the street, to the nearby park, and sat on the first unoccupied bench they saw. He stared blankly at the trees, and Alex decided to voice the burning question instead of waiting for Burr to start on his own.

“So what are her chances of waking up?” he asked softly, bringing the doctor back to reality.

“None.”

“Oh,” he gasped before he could stop himself. 

He certainly hadn’t expected that answer.

“She’s dead, brain-wise. At the beginning, there was some doubt, but now we’re completely sure. I’m a doctor, I understand how this works. There will be no miracle,” his voice shook a bit, “I’ve mourned her already, a long while ago, but it still hurts to see her like this.”

“I’m sorry if this will sound indelicate, but why are you keeping her hooked to all that then? Why don’t you just… let her go?”

It crossed his mind that if he had been in Burr’s position, he would’ve done it right after he found out.

“Because Theo, unlike me, doesn’t understand it,” a single tear ran down his cheek. “And as long as Theodosia is there, in that bed, she still has hope, and still has a mother. Visits her daily, talks to her, gives her drawings. I… I-” a small sob escaped him before he composed himself again “I can’t bring myself to take that away from her. But at the same time, I can’t look at Theo, can’t spend time with her. I just can’t keep lying to her and, and” he stuttered, “she’s a walking image of Theodosia, everything about her, the way she smiles, the way she speaks, her laugh. I hate myself for it more every day, but being around my own daughter is almost unbearable. That’s why I spend so much time in the office, and ignore the calls.”

Alex placed a hand on his shoulder, in an effort to offer some sense of comfort, and give more power to his words.

“I’m really sorry Aaron. I had no right to judge you, or even judge you and Sally- what?” he asked, confused by Burr’s chuckle at the mention of the nurse’s name.

“Sally is my sister.”

“What?”

“She’s my sister Alexander, not my mistress,” the doctor chuckled again.

“Wow. My condolences, man, a sister like tha-”

“Hamilton,” Burr furrowed his eyebrows and gave Alex, who raised his hands in a defeated gesture, a look. “She might not be the most fun person on this planet, but she’s still  _ my sister _ ,” he smiled, shaking his head.   


“Okay, at least you admit that she’s as dull as-”

“Hamilton!”

“Fine, fine.”

“Listen, I know this will probably be like, breaking every single rule that we should follow, but I really don’t feel like going back to the clinic, and I certainly could use a drink, so as long as this stays between the two of us…” Burr, trailed off, looking Alex in the eyes.

“Yeah sure, why not,” he said, despite being taken by surprise by the doctor’s offer.

A bar across the street from the park was also certainly a place Burr had been to before, Alexander decided, as he saw the bartender give them a knowing look when they entered. Before he had a chance to question if wasn't too early for this, and how they were going to drive back, Burr ordered them both a glass of scotch.

“They have decent burgers” was the only thing Burr had said during their first 30 minutes there, they just sat in silence, waiting for their orders, and one glass quickly became two.

Then once they were done eating, the burgers indeed  _ quite decent _ , two became three, and three started blurring into four.

“You know,” Alex broke the silence, playing with his empty glass and fighting not to slur, “I actually reeeally hate scotch.”

Their eyes locked, Burr’s face dead serious.

“So do I,” he said, and they both broke into slightly too loud laughter.

“Man I would’ve never expec-ted you to be someone who gets drunk at,” he looked around and searched the room for a clock, but couldn’t find one and just waved his hand, “probably something arrround noon.”

“What, is it not a  _ Burr thing to do _ ?” he chuckled, his speech clearly less affected by the alcohol than Alexander’s and motioned at the waiter to bring them another two glasses.

“So, A-arron, how are we getting back to the clinic?” Alex asked, last remainings of his reasonableness speaking, long after he had lost count of the glasses

“Do you think I’m letting you get back there in this state?”

“Wha-” he hiccuped mid-word “-t state?”

“I live nearby, we can walk there and wait for you to be less... “ Burr ignored the question and pointed at him, “less this.”

“Sirrr, If you’rre trying to brr-ing me home, you shhhould step your game up”, Alex laughed, earning a look from the doctor.

“Come.”

Alexander got up, unsteadily, and took a few steps before the inevitable happened. He lost his balance and was about to fall, but Burr caught him just in time.

“Sweet Jesus”, the man sighed and offered him an arm to help him walk “Here, hold onto me.”

“A-arrron Burr, sir! Not so quick”, Alexander tried to imitate an embarrassed girl’s expression, and slapped the doctor’s hand lightly, causing Burr to roll his eyes and sigh again.

After what must have been an hour of walking, Alex started really questioning what  _ nearby _ meant in Burr’s world.

“How far are we?”, he asked for the 8th time.

“We’re very close.”

“You,” Alex pointed a finger at the doctor, “you’ve said that 15 minutes ago.”

“Well, this walk would’ve taken us 20 minutes if you weren’t struggling to put one foot in front of the other, and didn’t need to pee  _ twice. _ ”

Alexander pouted at him and was about to snap something when Burr pointed to a building.

“That’s us.”

He silently prayed that there would be an elevator, and to his relief, there was. Burr led him to a flat on the 7th floor and unlocked the door.

“After you,” he motioned for Alex to get in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *grins*
> 
> (Oh! I've never mentioned, but I have a cat named, you guessed it, Alexander, and my friend wrote a short and sweet Hamficlet starring my very own kitty! Check it out if you're in the mood :3 http://archiveofourown.org/works/13268439)


End file.
